To Live on a Plain of Ice
by PenUltimateInkmaster
Summary: Follow the life of Hitsugaya Toshiro, from a small, unwanted boy in Rukongai, to the Captain of Squad 10 in the Gotei 13. Follow along as he discovers just how powerful and dangerous, yet horribly weak and vulnerable he can be and is. Follow along as a boy turns into one whose soul is too old for his body far too soon. Follow along on the journey of a lifetime.
1. Chapter 1: Winter Valley

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach or the characters. They are Tite Kubo's no matter how much I wish they were mine. This is, of course, with the exception of my OCs.

Please see A/N at the end of the Chapter for details or information.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Winter Valley**

 **20th of December, 1901**

It was the coldest day of the year so far and a storm of snow and hail swept over a barren forest of spruce, pine and birch. The wintery storm brought with it winds of biting cold and black clouds bearing warnings of an even stronger storm to come. Thunder cracked and rolled in the distance when what little was visible of the clouds was cracked by flashes of lightning, the snowy white of the dark December night illuminated for a split second before the light was drowned by a wild flurry of snow. Animals; birds, prey and predators alike, desperately sought cover from the merciless hands of icy death, but many were not quick enough to escape its grasp.

Within the heart of the storm there was a tiny village; the lanterns attached to the wooden outer walls of the thirty cabin-sized houses violently ripped from side to side by the wind like an out of control pendulum. The houses screamed and moaned beneath the pressure of the storm's whip, and garden fences were ripped from the soil and torn asunder. There was no light at all within the village, for all the fires had been snuffed out by the cold. Ice and snow lined the windows, and the doors was blocked shut by mountains of white. Only one house that stood at the edge of the village remained free and clear of snow, the wind with its swirls of white circling around the house, forming a cyclone of pure winter.

A scream of pure agony resounded from the house, swallowed by the white cyclone and never reaching the ears of the village's residents. The outcry came from the house's sole dweller; a young woman in her early twenties laying on a red stained mat on the floor. She was a beautiful woman, her skin the color of light cocoa beans and her eyes a warm milky brown; their beauty accented by long, thick lashes. Sweat poured from her forehead and her dark hair hung in sweaty clumps, but she was still beautiful, like a queen.

She let out a pained cry, her hands gripping the grayed sheet of the mat till her knuckles turned white. It was covered in red blood from her spread out legs and it soaked into the floorboards beneath. Yet another cry came from her, but this time there were words.

"Manabu!" she cried as her body jerked, tears streaming down her face, "Where are you?" The cyclone around the house swirled faster and the wind grew in strength. The house began to rattle as the storms reach for the first time began tearing at the house.

The woman kept screaming and panting, and as she did, the storm grew stronger and stronger. Soon the hatches on the window started to slam open and close in tandem with her cries, and outside, the storm raged with more and more vigor. Trees and house roofs were taken by the wind, and the wails of villagers who lost their houses sounded through the night. The woman heard none of it though. All she heard was a silent thud and a baby's cry.

She let out a sob of relief, pushed herself up from the floor with her elbows and leaned down to pick up the red-faced, blood-soaked babe now quietly lying between her legs. As soon as she brought it to her face and looked at it, she screamed in shock and dropped it to the floor. It immediately began crying, its body twitching as its hands and feet flailed in the air in desperate search for its mother.

"No, it can't be! Not my baby!" the woman screamed, her hands gripping and tearing at her hair, the beauty that was her face as red as the blood covering the sheets. "Not my baby!" she cried, the wind, momentarily having ceased its raging attack on the world as the baby breathed air for the first time, now resuming its assault with a force that dwarfed what it had once been. It tore open the window hatches and a wild eddy of white burst into the house.

The woman's hair was thrown about and she screamed in utter fear as the chilly winter took hold of her body. She scrambled to her feet, slipping on the blood and almost squashing the baby as she fell to the floor with a loud thud. It screamed and wailed, the wind swirling around and under it, as if it wanted to pick it up and carry it away. The woman looked around frantically, eyes falling upon the baby and the wind and snow swirling around it. Her eyes, alight with fear and panic, turned hard and cold like the ice that crept across the floor.

She grabbed the baby and pressed it to her chest as she clambered to her feet, scooping the sheet from the floor as she ran to the door. The wind followed her as she tore it open and stumbled out into the snow; her bare legs instantly froze cold and her lips turned blue within a second, but in her crazed frenzy she did not stop or notice it. She simply ran, stumbling and swaying, as she made her way to the forest just by her house. The baby cried and wailed, she ignored it and simply wrapped it up in the blood soaked sheet, quelling its cries when she stuffed its mouth.

As they moved through the forest, the storm followed them. It grew in intensity until the wind had become a roar and the snow obscured everything from view. The world became nothing but a sheen of white and biting cold wind. She ran and stumbled blindly forward, the red-stained white gown she wore haphazardly around her body whipped about like a rag doll. There was no way to know where she was headed, the trees she stormed past only visible for a split second as she rushed past them an inch away, but even so she moved with purpose, her voice calling out, forming a word and a cry for Manabu.

Minutes turned to an hour and the wind was now so strong that it could lift her up from the ground. Her panicked run had slowed to an agonizingly slow stumble and she was now trudging through the snow, her legs blue from the cold. She was so weak from labor and running, that she could do nothing to brace herself for the gust of wind that hit her like a crackling whip. It ripped the rocks and the trees from the ground, roots and all, and sent her flying through the air. She crashed into the snow, the breath knocked straight from her, and tumbled down a hill, snow and wind pushing her further down until she was stopped by a fall into an icy cold river.

Soaked from tip to toe, shivering and blue, she rose shakily to her feet. In her arms, still wrapped in the sheet but no longer with its mouth stuffed, the baby cried and wailed. Its lips were blue and it was completely soaked, water and snow packed in between the layers of the sheet. The woman stared at the baby, hate and disgust turning her once beautiful face ugly and primal.

"This is all your fault you wretched thing!" she shouted at it, causing it to cry even louder, the wind picking up as it did. Squeezing the baby with her trembling hands, she let out a roar of pain and rage, and threw the little thing away from her. It landed by the riverbank, its lower body in the water and the rest of it in the snow. The woman didn't remain to see it though, for as soon as she threw it, she turned and ran the same way she had come; up the hill.

She ran faster than before with seemingly renewed strength. For each step she took, she cried and wailed for Manabu. "Manabu!" she screamed, her face covered in tears and completely red, "Manabu!". She ran and ran until she stumbled out into a clearing and crashed into something soft yet simultaneously hard. It was a man clad in a thick fur cloak carrying a backpack and holding a walking stick. "Manabu! Oh thank God!" the woman collapsed into the man's arms and started crying like mad.

"Aimi, what's wrong?" the man dragged her to her feet, fear and worry lacing his every syllable. "What are you doing out here? The labor...you shouldn't...The baby! What about the baby? You're covered in blood, what happened?" Manabu's voice grew in volume and pitch, his eyes and hands frantically scanning over his wife's blue and beaten body.

"Not my baby!" Aimi cried, "It's hair! It's eyes!" she sobbed and buried her face in Manabu's fur coat. "The Jinx! It was the Jinx! A demon, a curse!" She wailed and frantically shook her head, "Not my baby! Not ours! A demon, I say, a demon!"

Manabu's breath hitched and he stared at her face, disbelief evident on his rugged face. "I-you-it… We can't stay here!" he dropped the walking stick and scooped up Aimi in his arms, "You'll die if you stay out any longer! We have to get back to the house!"

He started walking all the while Aimi wailed and screamed, "Not my baby! Not my baby!". Again and again she screamed, the words carried by the now calming winds like an echo through the forest, reaching all the way to where the tiny little baby lay in the snow, all alone.

The storm had calmed to a shadow of its former self and the baby was now at the center of it. All around it,the wind gently flowed and the snow fell on top of it like a blanket, never obscuring its face. It was silent and quiet, its breath coming out slower and slower, its body turning more and more blue. A mist began to form around it and the river it lay in, and a gust of wind lightly shoved the baby's lower body out of the water. It let out a slight whimper at the motion, but it was so quiet it could hardly be heard.

Slowly but surely, the mist thickened and the water in the river rose up, forming a bubble of water that split from the stream and froze into solid ice. Flakes of snow swirled around it and solidified into ice, even the moisture in the very air hardened, and slowly the ball of ice began to take shape. It became elongated and serpentine, the ice forming a large head with a long snout, sharp teeth and majestic ridges on its head. Gigantic wings stretched out from its back, so large and long that one couldn't see where they ended. Its body too seemed to stretch into infinity.

Made of ice as it was, it bore the color of frozen water; its icy blue form intricately detailed with scales and spikes along its back. It was strikingly majestic and utterly beautiful to behold; its contrasting ruby red eyes shining so strongly, just as the rest of its body glistened. The little baby looked like an ant in comparison to the mighty dragon that now looked down upon it.

 **"How small we are now."** The dragon spoke, its voice echoing and brimming with untold power. It cocked its head at the baby and let out a puff of breath that turned into a gust of wind sending the snow swirling. The baby's tiny, chubby hands were stretched upward toward the dragon, and it opened and closed its mouth, as if it wanted to speak, though it made no sound.

 **"Not yet little one, not yet."** The dragon lifted its head toward the black clouds, its eyes momentarily glowing, and parted its mouth to let out a steamy breath. Vapor rose from its nostrils and its wings flexed ever so slightly, the clouds above opening a tiny bit as the dragon moved.

A single stream of sunlight fell from the sky and landed upon the baby for a second, before the dragon's head blocked it. **"It's time for the heavenly guardian to return to where it belongs."** It bowed its head so that it was inches from the baby's face, its small hands reaching and touching the dragon's snout. As they touched, the dragon exploded into a million pieces of glistening snow that completely covered the baby. When the final speck of snow landed upon it, the storm disappeared as if it had never been and in the very same instant, the babe drew its last breath.

* * *

 **Soul Society, Junrinan, First District of West Rukongai**

Each and every breath she took turned to vapor in the chill air and she pulled her cloak tighter around herself. She had known going to the village had been a less than stellar idea, but little Momo had caught a cold and they were all out of medicine, so she hadn't had much of a choice. Not that she complained as it allowed her to talk and meet the other villagers. She could do without the cold though. It made her frail bones ache and turned her lips a slight shade of blue.

It was the coldest day in years that she could remember. There was no snow or wind, just an icy chill that not even the thickest of clothes could defend against. The thin layer of powdery snow that covered the landscape had frozen into solid ice and everything was incredibly slippery. One ran the risk of slipping just by taking a step, something she had experienced several times already. So far, she had fallen six times and that was not good for her old body.

Granny was older than most of the souls in Soul Society, so old was she that no one but herself could remember her name. She kept it to herself though. It gave her an air of mystery that she enjoyed and it kept people, especially children, coming to her tiny cabin. They felt close to her because she was almost like a grandmother to them, in no small part due to the name Granny that they called her by from the moment they could speak. She didn't care much for her real name either and doubted anyone else did. It was an identity she no longer cared to carry.

Pausing a bit to lean against a frozen tree and catch her breath, she readjusted her grip on the basket that she held in her hands so that it wouldn't slip from her increasingly numb fingers. She would be lying if she said the weather didn't worry her. The clouds looked ominous and she could tell that, even though they did not look stormy, strong winds carrying snow and hail was approaching. Such bad weather was rare in Rukongai, at least so close to the gates of the Seireitei, and she feared that the villagers would not be prepared for it. No, she knew they weren't.

She sighed and was just about to resume walking when a chill so deep pierced her body and made her stop in her tracks. Her body tingled as if it was being pricked by needles and pressure built in her stomach until it became so heavy it was like she had swallowed a rock. It all happened within a second, but she knew what it was: Reiryoku. Vast, strong Reiryoku, and it was coming from someplace very close.

 **"Ma'am,"** a sudden wind tore at her clothes and she shad to grip the tree with both hands to not fall. **"Help us,"** the wind disappeared with the words they carried and were little more than bursts of force, but she quickly realized that the words themselves was the wind or the cause of it.

She let her eyes sweep in a circle around in search of the speaker and for a split second she thought she saw something. Greenish hair and a blue kimono disappearing amongst the trees at the side of the road a few feet in front of her. It was so quick she didn't know if she had actually seen it, but she couldn't in good conscience ignore it. Someone had called for help and she would extend her hand.

Granny parted the branches of the trees and gazed into a dark forest. Within, there was frozen bushes and berries, a sheen of sparkling frost covering them. A chill much colder than the one on the road emanated from the depths and sent shivers running down her spine. It made her hands shake and she dropped the basket, brought her hands to her mouth and blew on them, her warm and steamy breath doing very little to make her feel. The forest was so cold that she took several steps back, not wanting to enter. Then she saw it again.

Green hair, a blue kimono and a tall figure in the distance. It was definitely a person, but no matter how hard she squinted, she couldn't make out any features. A seemingly perpetual mist surrounded the figure, obscuring it. It seemed to disappear in and out of focus, as if it was translucent, like a ghost or a mirage of some kind, a hallucination. She couldn't focus on it, as a matter of fact she could hardly see it. She would have thought that it was nothing but a figment of her imagination, but the voice that seemed to echo from all around her was very much real.

 **"Ma'am, help us."**

Before she had the time to think she found herself walking through the forest, following a ghost of a person that slipped in and out of view, disappearing for lengths at a time, and leading her somewhere. She hadn't registered that she moved and was surprised to find that she actually was. It was almost as if her body moved on its own, spurred forth by some unknown, powerful force. It took several minutes before Granny realized they were walking down a familiar path heading toward the river. Perplexed and ever so slightly frightened, she picked up her pace all the while a part of her warned her to turn back. She didn't heed her own warnings though and in the years to come, she would be very glad she ignored them.

The river was blanketed by a thick fog and a small sprinkle of soft, powdery snow fell from the grayish looking clouds just barely visible. A thin layer of ice covered parts of the large, flowing river, but in many places it ran free, splashing against tiny rocks and sending droplets flying onto the snow, hardening it and making it much more slippery. The figure, however, seemed completely unperturbed, gliding an inch above the ground with such an otherworldly grace that it snatched Granny's breath away. It moved smoothly, the mist following it and seemingly converging at its destination.

On top of a slight hill by the river, there was a large wisteria tree, its branches so long that it hung over the water, the petals gone with the winter and replaced with bright blue icicles. It looked almost skeletal and there was an ethereal quality to it. The mist that surrounded it made it look distorted, just like the figure, and the ice and frost that crept up its bark made it shimmer, almost as if there was a million stars trapped within the ice. It was so large and tall, that even from where she stood at the base of the hill, she could see the thick roots enfolded in frost, and it was right there, beneath the canopy of icicles, that the mist converged and the figure stopped.

Slowly, gracefully, the figure turned and the wind, who had all but disappeared, instantly reappeared with a violent roar, " **Help us!"** It thrust her forward and sent her flying toward the tree. The figure lifted one of its hands and a cushion of wind pressed against her body, slowing her down so that she didn't crash into the tree, but instead fell onto the ground right at the figure's feet. It exploded into a million flakes of snow just as she hit the ground, and rained down in between two large roots, the ice covering them becoming ever thicker and more widespread for each flake that floated past.

Granny, shocked and heaving to catch her breath, just lay there on her hands and knees for several seconds, processing and trying to understand what had just happened. Her body ached, her clothes was wet and she was now colder than she could remember being in ages. All of her discomfort, however, faded into nothing within a split second.

A small whimper reached her ears, soft and high-pitched, yet so faint and distant it could have been the wind. But Granny knew what it was, she had heard that sound many times and it was not the wind. She pushed herself up, not bothering to brush off the snow from her cloak, and leaned down between the roots. There was a pile of white snow, coated with a light dusting of the glistening flakes, that reached to just below her kneecap. It rested against the bark of the wisteria tree and upon further observation she realized that it was sunken and concave, like a bowl. What she had thought was the middle of the pile was in fact something very different.

She leaned down and picked up the bundled sheet, her eyes fixed, wide-eyed, at the contents within. It was a tiny little baby, no more than a few hours old, completely wrapped up in the wet, red-stained sheet. A flake of snow rested upon its nose and there were several more on the sheet and on its face that, considering its age, should be red, but that was instead the color of glossy, polished porcelain. That wasn't what made her stare though. No, it was the baby's hair. It was a stark white, purer and clearer than any old man's, and looked just like the snow that the baby had been submerged in. There was no wonder she hadn't seen it at first glance.; it blended with the snow and ice as if it was made from it.

Any concern or fear that she might have felt for herself were whisked away and all that remained was a need to protect the baby and ensure its safety. Granny's ever present, motherly instincts kicked in and she pressed the baby close to her chest to warm it. She wrapped her coat around it and ran as fast as she could down the hill without slipping. When she came to the road that she had left not an hour before, she put the baby in the basket that she had all but forgotten to pick up and sprinted toward her house.

It took Granny ten minutes to get home even when she ran as fast as she could. The wind picked up as she ran and snow began to fall, but the current was never so strong that it pushed her off her feet. She flung open the door, a swirl of snow following her and settling on the floor, only to melt seconds later as she closed it and the warmth from the fireplace killed it. Momo came running, bare-footed, into the living room, dressed in a flower patterned, black and orange jinbei. Her short, dark hair stuck out whichever which way and her brown eyes was filled with sleep.

"Granny, where have you been?" she said with a yawn and rubbed her eyes, blinking up at her with a questioning look. Granny didn't answer immediately, instead she put the basket on the living room table and lifted up the baby and the medicine lying beneath it.

"Momo, sweetie, get a dry sheet or blanket from the bedroom, please." She didn't look at Momo when she spoke, too busy unwrapping the baby from the large sheet. It was completely covered and she could hardly see its face. The small , six-year old looking girl answered her with a soft and slightly confused 'okay' and she heard the quick and light pitter patter of her small feet as she ran toward their bedroom.

Not a minute later she returned with a blue blanket and stretched out her hand for Granny to take it. "What's going-" her sentence was cut short when Granny took the blanket, unwrapped the sheet and Momo spotted the little baby. "A baby!" she squealed and jumped up on one of the stools, "Wow, Granny, where did you find it?"

Granny glanced at her and gave a small smile; Momo was such a happy little girl. "Out in the woods, in the snow," she said and turned her attention back to the baby. Now that she could see the entire baby, she saw that it was a boy. She also saw that it was unusually small, no more than 20 centimeters. It was also very wet.

Momo, upon hearing where Granny had found the boy, let out a surprised yelp and started ranting about how mean the people that left him were. She seemed to have forgotten all about her own tiredness and jumped about the room while Granny dried the now screaming baby and wrapped it up in the blue blanket. The baby kept crying and was clearly not happy. Granny tried to calm him down and warm him further by pressing him against her and stroking his back, all the while softly humming. It didn't work and he only screamed louder. He screamed so loudly that Momo's words were drowned out and she stopped talking, only to, a few seconds later, yell questions at Granny about why he was so sad.

After two minutes of this Granny had a thorough headache and she was just about to, as kindly as she could, tell Momo to be quiet at least for a minute, when a strong wind tore open the hatches on the living room windows. Momo let out a shocked scream and shielded herself against the strong wind and Granny turned her back and face away from it to protect the baby. When the wind stopped after a few seconds, she noticed that he had stopped crying. Sighing in relief, she told Momo to close the windows again. A few seconds later the baby started crying, his face turning progressively more red. Yet another wind tore open the windows; the baby stopped crying but began once more as soon as the window hatches closed. It didn't take long for Granny to realize that the baby liked the cold and wanted them to be open. The implications brought a tingle of worry and fear to her, but she decided not to think too much about it. Instead she, much to her discomfort, went over to the open windows, the baby in hand, and stood there, allowing the cold wind and flakes of wind to envelope the two of them.

Poor Momo was very confused and frightened by the whole thing, and when Granny told her to take the medicine and go to bed, she complied without complaints. Granny let out a sigh of exhaustion and shivered in the cold, chilly wind. The boy, however, seemed positively joyful, his chubby hands waving in the air and grabbing at the snow. She lifted him up so that he was at eye level with her and held him at arm's length. The white of his soft, dune like hair blended with the white background and he seemed to melt into the picturesque winter backdrop. She hadn't noticed his eyes before, but now she saw, to her amazement and shock, that they looked just like the frozen river. A bright, mesmerizing turquoise, cold like ice and just as beautiful as glass. She could see her reflection in them just like she could in still water and they were almost impossible to look away from.

"What beautiful eyes you have…" she whispered and he cocked his head at her. At the back of her mind she was amazed at the boy's seeming understanding of her words. He was not a day old but his eyes looked so ancient, much more so than she was. "I'll have to give you a name little one," the strangeness of it all was nothing but an afterthought and she would rather keep it that way for she knew if she thought too much about it, she would go mad. "You are a child of winter, white as snow, and I found you by a river in a valley," she mused, speaking aloud to no one in particular. "Winter valley…" she raised the boy up so that he was now looking down at her, wind and flakes of snow swirling around him. "It's decided," she said with a smile as he blinked at her, "your name is Hitsugaya Toshiro."

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 **A/N:** This is my first ever fic, so I'd appreciate any and all feedback. Thanks so much for taking the time to read this and I really hope you enojoyed!


	2. Chapter 2: Childhood Days

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach or the characters. They are Tite Kubo's no matter how much I wish they were mine. This is, of course, with the exception of my OCs.

Please see A/N at the end of the Chapter for details or information.

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Childhood Days**

 **Soul Society, Junrinan, First District of West Rukongai**

The village of Junrinan didn't respond well to the news of Hitsugaya Toshiro's adoption by Granny. Several of the villagers tried to make her abandon the baby, some even offered to outright kill it, citing old legends and nursery rhymes of a white-haired demon as their reason. Granny would have none of it though, and she turned each and every one of them down, even the village chief himself. She was abhorred that they would be so quick to judge the little, innocent boy simply for his unusual appearance, though she was not surprised. The moment she had laid eyes upon him and seen his hair and eyes, she had known he would not be accepted within the village. They would come to fear him, she knew, but she couldn't really blame them.

Granny knew why they feared him better than they did themselves and she knew that she too, where she a little younger, would have felt the same way. But she wasn't younger; there wasn't a soul older than her in all of Junrinan. She was the most respected person there and regarded in higher esteem than even the village chief. Not strange in the slightest since he had once come to her cabin like every other child always did. Or used to at least.

After Toshiro had officially been announced as her new grandchild, the children stopped coming to her cabin, no doubt told to stay away by their parents. It saddened her as she enjoyed their company, but there was little she could do. Sweet little Momo didn't understand why her friends no longer came to visit her, though young and innocent as she was, she didn't dwell on it for long and simply left the cabin to go visit them in the wee hours of the morning. Thus Granny was mostly for herself save for the company of little Toshiro who, lying wrapped up in her arms, would look up at her with those magnificently turquoise eyes of his and smile, almost as if to reassure her.

His smile never failed to make her herself smile and laugh, and he seemed both happy and pleased with himself whenever she did, as if he knew he was the one who made her do so. Granny became more and more amazed at the boy's cognitive abilities for she had never seen anything like it in all the hundreds of years she had lived, and the more time she spent with him, the more it became apparent that he was no normal child at all.

The first three years he aged like all normal humans, but his mind seemed to be years ahead of the typical three year old. It was only in certain instances where it was apparent, but when one of those moments came along, they never ceased to amaze her. The way he would look at her and the words he would speak; it was as if he had lived a thousand times over and died just as much. His eyes were heavy with age that looked both beautiful and wrong on his young and round face and his voice, normally so light and cheerful with youth, would sober up to the point where it sounded like it came from a completely different person.

"People fear what they do not understand and refuse to understand what they fear. They can't accept what's different because it makes them feel uncomfortable, it makes them aware that there are things in this world they do not know and it frightens them. To them, to humans, different means unknown, and unknown means danger. Danger breeds fear; that fear roots itself and goes from generation to generation until no one can remember why they fear what they fear, whether their fear had a reason to be or not. It's in human nature to fear what's unnatural. To ensure survival."

Granny could remember the day he said that. It was the first time he went to the village, just after he turned three. He had bounded down the road, holding hands with Momo and swinging his arms, laughing excitedly at finally being able to see what lay beyond their small cabin and backyard flowerbeds.

"Hurry up, Granny!" he called at her over his shoulder, waving his hand for her to walk quicker, a joyous smile about his lips, his silken hair bouncing as he skipped along. "I wanna meet everybody!" he said and she felt a pang of dread at knowing what would occur. She knew she should tell him that he would not be accepted, but she hadn't the heart. She shouldn't even have brought him along, but she couldn't isolate him. He was a child and he had to meet others and see the world, or else he wouldn't grow.

Toshiro squealed in delight when he saw the village with its many shops, restaurants and houses twice the size of their cabin. He gawked at every little thing and pointed at them as he jumped up and down and assaulted her with questions. "What's that, Granny?" he pulled at her skirt and pointed at a booth selling rich and colorful tapestries of beautiful seasonal landscapes, warriors and mythical beasts, and lovers embracing one another. "Look at all the people. So many houses and they are so big!" eyes wide, he stared at the two story houses, squinting at times to see if he could peer into the windows and through the colored curtains.

He ran between the many market stalls lining the streets, jumping up and down to see the wares, and he went into several shops, looking at every item that caught his interest. He sniffed the goods at the bakery and nagged Granny for a sweet roll with his big puppy eyes until she relented, and laughed joyfully at the musicians playing their harps, guitars, flutes and ukuleles in the street, tossing almost all of them a coin if she let him. Toshiro was loud and filled with wonder, like most children upon discovering something new and exciting. Yet he was still looked down upon.

The people around them glared at him with annoyance and irritation, and equal amount of disgust. They shook their heads at his loud exclaims of awe and snorted as they passed them, or even outright avoided their path, and those that didn't, looked at Granny pointedly, their eyes saying more than a thousand words.

Each and every person Toshiro passed, he smiled and waved at, bowing and looking at them with big eyes as he said, "Hi! I am Hitsugaya Toshiro, nice to meet you!" Each and every time he did, he would stare confusedly after the person whom he bowed to as they scoffed at him and walked away without as much as a word, avoiding his gaze as best they could. He looked hurt each time, but still greeted yet another person as they walked past or even walked up to some, adults and kids alike, and extended his hand for them to shake. They all turned their backs on him, ignoring his presence. That, or they told him to get away from them.

Granny felt her heart break a little as he looked at her, eyes wide and utterly confused, a frown of sadness dragging the corners of his mouth down as he asked, "Why are they not answering me, Granny? What have I done wrong?" Nothing, she told him, you have done nothing wrong at all. She put a hand on his shoulder, squeezed it lightly and tried her best to reassure him that the villagers were just busy and didn't mean anything bad, they simply didn't have time to talk to him. He looked at her with skepticism, brows knitted together and head tilt, confusion still clear on his face, but in the end he believed her and then smiled once more, running up to walk beside Momo whom hadn't noticed a thing.

When they were on the road headed home, he had suddenly stopped and looked up at her, sadness filling his ancient eyes. That's when he said it. Utterly serious and sure, then he had smiled at her; not his usual joyous smile of boyish charm, but one of regretful sorrow. "Sorry, Granny," his small hands was lightly clutching the hem of her skirt, "I didn't mean to."

"Didn't mean what?" she stared down at him, taken aback and completely unprepared for this shift in behavior. "Toshiro, what's wrong?" He shook his head and then smiled up at her. It was his usual smile, happy and reassuring, shining with youthful wonder. He gave her no answer and instead ran ahead to catch up to Momo who skipped along with a basket of freshly baked and bought bread swinging at her side, leaving Granny to stare after him in worry and confusion. It wouldn't be the first time her questions were left unanswered.

Now, seven years later, not much had changed, though Toshiro hardly ever came with words of wisdom anymore. It was as if he had bottled that part of himself - that beautiful piece of soul - deep inside him, locked it away behind a hundred doors, the moments it resurfaced far and few in between. But things were still in many ways the same.

Every other month Granny, Momo and Toshiro would go to the village to buy what they needed, only staying for a short time before quickly leaving, not really talking to anyone. Toshiro would wave and say hello, and people would ignore him, but not when it was Momo who greeted them. Then they would smile at her, talk with her and even compliment her. Sometimes they were nice to Toshiro too, when Momo mentioned him and brought him into the conversation. His eyes would light up then and he always smiled at the villagers, such a friendly, harmless smile.

Granny did nothing, just watched from the sidelines. There was little she could do but be there for him for nothing she said would ever make him accepted. Even now, after so much time had passed, the villagers asked her to rid herself of him. Her answer was still the same as it had been ten years ago and it would never change. As long as she lived, he would not be on his own. Ever.

"Granny! Me and Toshiro are going out to visit Kouta and Suzu. We'll be back before dinner, I swear!" Momo's jolly voice brought her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see her and Toshiro running down the road and away from their homely little cabin. She looked to be about ten now and he five, both of them children despite her being almost seven times his age. They were so young and naive, especially Momo. She had yet to realize that her friends only played with Toshiro when she was around because they didn't want to lose her. Everybody loved Momo, but in her naivete she had yet to realize the cruelty of man.

"Don't be late!" She called after them, though she knew they couldn't hear her. With a heavy sigh, she took a sip from the cup of tea she held in her lap and stared up at the cloudless sky, silently praying that things would turn out alright even as she knew they wouldn't.

* * *

"Hurry up, little Shiro-chan!" Momo was running a few steps in front of him, her orange flower-patterned kimono billowing behind her. She was twice his size and her steps were long, too long for him to keep up with. Toshiro was slowly falling behind and even if he tried to pick up the pace, he couldn't match her speed.

"S-slow down!" he called after her, reaching out with his arms to try and grab her, but she was out of his reach, running farther and farther ahead. She didn't stop even though he called again, only told him to run faster, laughing and letting out screams of joy as she lightly skipped down the road and out of sight. She didn't see or realize that she was leaving him behind, and in her excitement to meet her friends, she didn't turn to see if he was there.

She didn't see at all and he stopped running, his arms falling to his side, and stared breathlessly after her. For several seconds he stood there, catching his breath in the humid air of midsummer, insects buzzing in his ears. Then he began to walk, slowly, reluctantly, his mind drifting to home and the thought of going the other way. Yet he didn't and his pace only quickened until he was almost running along the familiar path to Kouta's and Suzu's house, his ears blocking out the voice whispering at the back of his mind, telling him it would all be fruitless.

As he jogged, the trees that surrounded the path gave way to open stretches of grass and in the distance he could see houses and farms, cows grazing on the vividly green plains and shepherds herding sheep to their enclosures, large wooden rods in hand and skewed hats on their heads. The sun beat down mercilessly from a cloudless sky so blue it hurt to look at and to Toshiro, the heat was suffocating, too warm to be comfortable, yet the air was moist enough to make it all bearable. Just barely. All the colors were so vivid, so alive, so...happy. It made his stomach ache and lumps form in his throat, but it shouldn't be like that. Not at all. He should feel joy and excitement at the warmth of summer, at the chance to play outside with others and bathe in the river. He wanted to, but he couldn't. Momo didn't notice, like she never saw the looks and patches of blue or heard the whispers. Granny was the only one who was not blind. The only one who knew or even seemed to care.

Toshiro's jaw clenched and he started running faster, determination spurring him on. He refused to linger too long on dark thoughts; he wanted to keep hoping that maybe, just maybe, the kids would one day come to the cabin and ask him if he wanted to play with them. Or just come visit and say hi. It wasn't much to ask for and Toshiro knew that if he only tried hard enough, they'd come around. He was sure of it and if they didn't, he would make them.

The path before him opened up into a large clearing of sand and green grass, brown wooden houses scattered about with gardens surrounded by picket fences and sandy paths leading to their doors. There was a well almost right in the middle of the clearing, ancient and made of a myriad of different colored stone, moss and grass growing in the cracks between the skillfully bricked stones.

A slightly plump, elderly woman with graying hair stood hunched over it, pulling up a water-filled bucket. She glared at Toshiro as he whisked past her, her mouth opening as if she was about to yell at him, but no sound came and she simply pursed her lips, the corners of her mouth turning down in a grimace of disgust. He ignored the look she gave and kept running, swallowing the lump in his throat and pretending the rocks in his stomach weren't there, even as they made each step heavy and loud.

His pace slowed down to a trot as he passed the local grocery store where Granny and them would go buy food if they ever ran out before their scheduled trip to the main city of Junrinan. The windows were open and he could hear chatter from inside. He recognized the voice of Ms. Takigawa, an old friend of Granny, no doubt telling gossip and false rumors about him and all the bad things he had done. He rolled his eyes and hurried past the shop so that she wouldn't spot him.

The area where Toshiro lived was a part of the district of Junrinan and was referred to as such, even though it was technically not part of the city and was instead on the outskirts. Junrinan was both the name of the district and the city surrounding the west gate of Seireitei, which was why the little village was called Junrinan. He remembered how confused he had been when he was younger and that Granny had spent a whole afternoon explaining it all to him. That and the whole thing with the shops.

Many small villages were scattered about the district, most of the houses farms of some kind or mills. All the food they produced were either sold to the main city of Junrinan as well as Seireitei, or given to local shop owners in the area. This was because some of the villages were too far away from Junrinan, thus not allowing the residents to travel there. That meant they needed a shop nearby to buy food. The selection was pretty bare-boned in comparison to what was found in the big city, but it was just good enough for people to make it until the weekend when they would typically go to the city to shop.

Kouta and Suzu's house was situated at the edge of the clearing. It was twice the size of Granny's cabin, but not nearly as old. It had been made some twenty years ago when their father settled down and though he was far from a good builder, the house had less air drafts than Granny's.

Momo was with the two of them beside the house, crouched low and staring intently at something on the ground. Kouta and Suzu was standing, both of them yelling excitedly, voices loud and high-pitched, "Come on! You can do it! I'm gonna win!" Toshiro tilt his head and tentatively approached them, hands clenching and releasing in rapid succession. They didn't notice his approach, not even Momo did.

"Um, what are you guys doing?" he tried to sound confident and determined, but the words sounded meek and uncertain. Momo gave no sign that she had noticed the tone of his words, but Suzu frowned at him, as if she thought he was a lesser being, and Kouta audibly snorted in disgust, green eyes rolling.

"We're playing with spinning tops!" Momo exclaimed excitedly, completely oblivious to her friends sneering looks, as always. Her head whipped around to look at him, eyes level to his even though she sat, bright and shining, and then she sprang to her feet, towering above him like a superior who thought herself equal.

Toshiro looked down at where Momo had so intently stared before, avoiding her gaze as best he could, his cheeks turning red yet he was cold. There, on the ground, lay two wooden objects, round like pegs and with sharp pointed tips. One was slightly bigger than the other who was both smaller and broader. The smaller one was chipped and both of them looked well-used and worn, the color of the wood dirty and faded.

"S-spinning tops?" Toshiro looked at Momo, brows furrowing as he swallowed down a lump in his throat, face turning redder by the minute. He had never heard of such a game.

Kouta scoffed and looked at him in condescending disbelief. "You seriously don't know what spinning tops are? Really?"

"Yeah," Suzu squeaked, "everyone knows. Right, Momo?" Kouta and Suzu looked over at Momo. She wasn't smiling anymore and she was looking down at her feet, avoiding their gazes, a frown about her face.

Toshiro stared at her, dread creeping up his spine, a stone stuck in his throat making it hard to breathe. She looked at him finally and then said in a low, apologetic tone, "They're right, Shiro-chan, everyone knows about the game."

His shoulders sunk, "Oh… I d-"

"Kouta can teach it to you, though!" Momo spoke hurriedly and looked over at Kouta with a smile. "He's the best there is in town. He's even teaching me! Right, Kouta? You can teach him, right?"

Kouta scowled and looked away, glancing for a moment at Toshiro with narrowed eyes. "No," he shook his head, "I can't."

"W-" Momo blinked at him in surprise, glancing over at Toshiro for a brief second. He himself wasn't looking at any of them, eyes fixed on a particularly large grain of sand at his feet. He wasn't surprised either; it was always like this. "W-why not?" Momo pressed, a brittle smile pulling the corners of her mouth upward.

"Cause I can't teach both you and tha- him - at the same time. Besides, we only have two tops and if all four of us were to play, then I wouldn't be able to teach you all that well." Kouta huffed, turning his green gaze on Momo, ignoring Toshiro completely as if he didn't exist.

"Oh...I see," Momo mumbled, eyes darting around for a bit before landing on Toshiro. "Sorry, Shiro-chan, maybe another time?" she was looking at him with that look again; apologetic and pitying and insincere. The I-can't-do-anything-sorry-for-the-lie face. "You can watch, maybe you'll learn something, eh?" she playfully bumped his shoulder with her fist in an attempt to lighten the mood, but if fell absolutely flat.

Toshiro took a few steps back, still not looking at any of them. "I'll just watch…" he forced the words out through tightly pressed lips, his stomach dropping to his knees from a sudden bout of world-spinning nausea.

"You do that," Suzu said in that squealing voice of hers. She didn't even try to hide her sneer and looked at him with open distaste, a mocking gleam to her hazel eyes. "Over there," she pointed at a spot over by their house, several arm lengths away, "you won't get in the way there."

He slowly and hesitantly walked over to the spot, gazing at Momo in his peripheral as he passed her. Why wouldn't she say anything? Was she that scared and uncertain? Or was she just oblivious?

 _Help me, please…_

Momo didn't as much as look at him, actively avoiding his gaze as she dropped down into a crouch, back turned to him. She radiated shame, her body hunched over and her head bowed; he could easily imagine how red her face was.

Toshiro sat down on the sandy ground and leaned against the outer wall of Kouta and Suzu's house. His shoulders slumped and he clasped his wrist in his other hand tightly to stop them from shaking, blinking back burning hot tears from his eyes, desperately trying to swallow the stones clogging up his throat and pretending he wasn't red-faced and flushed.

The other three began playing with the tops again and Toshiro silently sat and watched them. The game was a simple one; they made the tops spin by pulling a rope tied around their axis and the one who spun the longest won.

He sat and looked at them for more than an hour. Almost the whole time, Momo kept glancing at him, even as Kouta tried to show her how to play the game, but as time passed she did it less and less often. In what seemed like no time at all, she forgot he was there at all, fully absorbed in the game she played with her friends. The other two, however, never forgot, and they constantly snickered at him, looking at him with eyes that said : no one cares about you, freak!

Yet another hour passed and Toshiro still watched them as they laughed and had fun. By now, Kouta and Suzu had stopped with their looks and were just ignoring him, but they had far from forgotten him. They positioned themselves in a way that blocked the tops from view and made it so he couldn't see the game. He tried to go sit somewhere else and he even considered going over to them, but one look from Kouta dispelled those thoughts right away. Toshiro was left sitting in the same spot, craning and stretching his neck to try and see, all to no avail.

Finally he had had enough. After a total of three hours of sitting out on the sidelines, he decided there was no point in staying there anymore; no one cared about him after all and he didn't want to burst Momo's perfect little bubble. So he silently rose to his feet and walked away, hands stuffed into his pockets and head hung low. People glared at him as he passed and shielded their kids from even seeing him. None of the three who still played with the tops noticed his absence and no one missed him at all.

* * *

 **A/N:** Ok, so this took a lot longer than I thought it would and for that I am sorry. I'm a perfectionist and I simply want to give you all my best; I'm not gonna publish anything I'm not happy with and it's not like I spend all my days writing. I'm not saying this to make excuses, all I'm saying is I'll write when my muse is right because I don't want to mess it up. Again, sorry for the long wait!

That said, I wish to thank each and every one who reviewed my story, it means a lot. Every time I struggled, I'd take a look at the reviews to get my muse and motivation going, and I can hardly express how much it means to me to get such positive feedback from you all. Truly, you make my day!

Now for a bit of clarification on the timeline. The main story of Bleach (the manga and the anime) begins in 2001 and ends in 2003. This excludes the epilogue which is 10 years later (2013.) I don't quite remember where I read it, but I'm pretty sure that's canon. Toshiro was - in my story at least - born in 1901 which means he is exactly a hundred at the start of the series. Last chapter he was an infant and in this chapter he starts off as 3 (in the beginning with Granny) but ends as a soon to be 10 year old. Momo is about seven times that, meaning she is around 70 years old in this chapter, specifically 65. Note that the ages are chronological and does not necessarily correlate to the characters physical or mental age. Time moves differently in Seireitei, as I'm sure most of you know. I'll give more info on the timeline in later chapters as it is needed.

I'm trying to be as close to canon as possible, but the source material is pretty loose when it comes to details regarding time, so my story will be based on how I see it. This is going to be elaborated on further down the line, though I don't want to write super long author's notes. Sorry about the length of this, just felt I had to explain a couple of things so we are all on the same page. :p

Again, thank you all for your support and feedback!


	3. Chapter 3: Childhood Days pt 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach or the characters. They are Tite Kubo's no matter how much I wish they were mine. This is, of course, with the exception of my OCs.

Please see A/N at the end of the Chapter for details or information.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Childhood Days pt. 2: The Beginning of the End and the End of the Beginning**

 **Soul Society, Junrinan, First District of West Rukongai, West Gate**

"-and then Jirobo said true and noble warriors, the Shinigami, do not so easily cry!" Jidanbo loudly huffed with his booming baritone voice, hands flailing about in gesticulation. Toshiro grimaced as his ears chimed from the noise and he looked up at the giant of a man, eyes and mouth twitching.

"What did I say about keeping your voice down when I'm on your shoulder, Jidanbo?" Toshiro chastised the behemoth, annoyance clear in his voice. The hulking Shinigami awkwardly turned his head to look at the tiny, white little speck of a boy that sat reading on his shoulder, but he couldn't quite see him so his eyes were wide open as they attempted to focus on Toshiro. It made him look absolutely ridiculous.

The giant didn't reply right away. Instead he wrinkled his brows in obvious confusion, his eyes taking on a distant, thoughtful look, appearing as if he struggled to think. Clearly he had forgotten all that Toshiro had told him. Again. For like the hundredth time.

Toshiro sighed and clapped his book close with a smack. "I won't say it again, so listen, for real now. Don't talk so loudly when I'm this close to you. I know you're enthusiastic, but it hurts my ears. Okay?" He looked at the Shinigami sternly, or tried to anyways. He could feel the corners of his mouth twitch upward a bit and although Jidanbo's forgetfulness was annoying, it was also amusing. The man was like a grown-up, giant baby. A baby that could lift several tonnes and swing a huge ass sword like it was a toothpick, but a baby nonetheless.

"A real man can handle loud voices, and you are a real man, Shiro-chan, despite your tiny size." Jidanbo said with a nod, his big eyes sincere and warm like chocolate milk. Toshiro grit his teeth at the comment, though he knew the giant didn't mean any harm with it. In his mind it was a compliment somehow.

He shook his head at Jidanbo and pinched the bridge of his nose, yet he remained silent. There was no point in trying to explain much of anything to Jidanbo, especially what Toshiro meant or thought, at least not at the moment. The Shinigami was in the mood for uplifting speeches and his focus was on that. Jidanbo was a very single minded man with a straightforward view of things, but he was far from stupid, though it was easy to think so. It wasn't that he didn't understand, he merely didn't think much about things and so he forgot.

Toshiro stood up fluidly, his book under his arm. Jidanbo's shoulder was muscled and hard, not at all like flesh yet still soft to sit on, almost like grassy ground, and so his balance was not lost.

For a moment, he stood still and stared out at the city of Junrinan that seemed to stretch almost all the way to the horizon, as if it wanted to touch heaven but didn't quite make it, the houses like fingers and hands desperately reaching out for paradise. He could see the entirety of the city, the river that zigzagged through it beneath the bridges and walkways, coiling around the streets, a visage of a glistening snake under the sun brought forth to the mind. He could see the shops and the restaurants, the people milling about everywhere before him as small as ants. From Jidanbo's point of view the world was small; he towered over everything but the gates and walls of Seireitei that stood behind them like an eternal, impenetrable wall without fault. Perfect and indomitable, unequalled and above all.

With a deep breath, Toshiro inhaled the fresh air and felt the wind almost lift him up, his arms raising slightly as if they were wings that wanted to catch the draft and be dragged along with it. Then, without pause or warning, Toshiro leapt off Jidanbo's shoulder and for a split second far too short, he was in freefall.

He didn't fall for long or plummet to the ground, however. Jidanbo's arm shot up with remarkable speed for one his size and Toshiro landed in the man's palm.

"You are far too brave, Shiro-chan," Jidanbo said and lifted Toshiro up to eye level. "Didn't you say that caution and patience is integral for survival?" Toshiro raised his eyebrows at the man, surprised for a moment at Jidanbo's sudden seriousness, the elation from moments before fading. The giant looked concerned, his bushy brows knit together, "I don't want to be responsible for you getting hurt, my friend."

That brought a smile to Toshiro's face and, crouching down, he patted the Shinigami's hand as if he gave him a high five and said. "I knew you would catch me." He looked up at him, his turquoise eyes meeting Jidanbo's round, brown ones. They were slightly watered and Toshiro quickly looked away, cheeks red, and awkwardly mumbled. "Now will you let me down, you big oaf?"

Jidanbo sniffed and lowered his hand to the ground so that Toshiro could step down. "Thank you, Jidanbo," Toshiro muttered and smiled faintly up at the thirty-two-and-a-half feet tall man, whom still looked concerned as he wiped the corners of his eyes with a beefy thumb. "I'll be seeing you." Toshiro waved goodbye over his shoulder as he walked away from the white walls of Seireitei and into the city, Jidanbo gazing after him until he disappeared amidst the houses.

The city of Junrinan used to amaze Toshiro when he was younger. There were so many people and so much to see that an entire day could go by in a heartbeat. Not to mention the scents. Freshly baked bread, spices, sake, sugar and wine, coffee beans and tea leaves, and even leather. Too many to name. Everything was exotic, the people included. If he listened closely, he thought he could catch snippets of foreign tongues and strange dialects and accents, twisted words and sentences that he couldn't understand, but still loved to try to make sense of.

Once upon a time, Toshiro would have stopped to listen and smell the air. Now, well, not so much.

"It's him. That _thing_."

"Look at it. It's not normal."

"What a freak!"

"What's wrong with his hair momma? Is he sick? He looks funny."

"Don't look at him, honey, that boy is dangerous."

"You stay away from him, you hear son?"

"Baba, look! Whitey hair! It's a tiny old man!"

"I feel cold… He makes me _sick._ "

Whispers, glares and sneers followed him wherever he went, and the eyes of those he passed burnt into him as if they wanted him to melt or turn to ash blowing away in the wind.

Toshiro hung his head low to prevent locking eyes with anyone, not in shame or sadness, but in resignation. He had long since become used to it, and as such he knew there was no point in trying to change anything. People were stubborn, and the citizens of Junrinan was set in their minds. That, however, didn't mean he wanted to see the fear and disgust in their eyes.

Toshiro wove his way through the streets and the people, slipping into alleyways and shortcuts to avoid the masses and get home quicker. The main streets were clean and lit with golden lanterns in the night, but the alleys were always dark and grimey save for the odd flickering candle. It was there that people threw away the things they didn't want anymore and where they hid their secrets. It was also where all the runaways, degenerates and drunken people resided. No city, not even one as 'l _uxurious and high class_ ' as Junrinan, were without them.

No place in Junrinan was empty, ever. It was just too many people in Soul Society and though only a tiny percent lived in the First District, that tiny percent was massive in numbers. That really put things in perspective. Toshiro was even smaller than others would have him be and hardly worth much in the grand scheme of things. In that way he was just like everyone else. Not that anyone would ever admit to having anything in common with him.

Toshiro knew he was different from everyone else, in many more ways than one, his appearance a mere fraction of all the things that set him apart. He didn't need people to constantly point out that he was weird and unusual, freaky or whatever else. He knew it already and his strange, recurring dreams of meaningless sensations only reinforced that fact. Toshiro simply didn't care if he had anything in common with anyone or if they acknowledged it. He really didn't….

The city was behind him now, but he didn't escape the people. The roads were well-traveled and hardly desolate, and today was no different. Days rarely were. Toshiro kept his head low and ignored everyone, as usual, and they passed without doing him any harm. They wouldn't have done anything had he looked at them anyway. Most would have ran away, though as with everything, there was exceptions. Luckily, he didn't meet any of them.

Kouta and Suzu wasn't home and their house was empty as he passed it. Toshiro allowed himself a sigh of relief and suppressed the urge to thank whatever Gods existed. He had stopped doing that years ago as it never amounted to anything. Whatever Gods that be didn't care any at all for a tiny non important speck of dirt. Praying gave nothing but false hope and considering the fact that he was already dead…

Toshiro slowed his pace as he left the village, almost coming to a halt on the forest path. It was late summer, the sun warm, a cool breeze blowing from the west ruffling his hair and clothes. Vibrant green leaves, some yellowing at the edges, rustled as the wind whistled through, and birds both distant and near sang in soft, chipper tunes. There was not a single cloud in the sky and all was blue above his head. Blue, blank and empty save for a flock of birds.

He had completely stopped walking now and just stood there, staring up at the vast blue nothingness. The birds circled and spiraled in the air, and though they were far away, Toshiro could see the flaps of their wings as clearly as he could see the white and red flowers by the road, and the buzzing bees that surrounded them. He could feel them as if they were his own, the wind from up high surrounding him, coldly embracing him and tearing at him, a thousand times stronger than the weak breeze that hardly lifted the blue cloth of his kimono. Toshiro could perfectly imagine himself with the birds, taken away by the wind to a faraway place where he was free and unbothered.

 _Would things be better there? Would I be happy?_

As he stood there, listening to the music of the wind and watching the birds dance, the moment of tranquility was broken by loud voices in the distance that grew ever close. He cringed and cast his gaze down to the dry and cracked earth of the path, an image of the endlessly blue sky flickering behind his eyelids. He knew the voices; it was the shopkeeper and his wife, both of whom were less than fond of him. Mildly put.

"I swear, that poor girl is ensnared! Ms. Takigawa was convinced of it and she always knows things about them. I mean, why else would-" silence fell and Toshiro could feel two pair of eyes on him. Slowly, he looked up and saw the shopkeep standing in front of him, a few feet away, his wife next to him with her mouth open mid sentence. Their expression was shocked, their eyes large and wide. It was clear they hadn't noticed him till then.

Toshiro tried to smile at them, but that only made them back away. He could feel his mouth twitch and he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he bowed in greeting and said as politely as he could, "It is nice meeting you, Mr. and Ms. Nobu, but it's getting dark and I'm already late for home, so if you'll excuse me, I really must be going." Despite his efforts, a drop of sarcasm still snuck into his tone and he was just about ready to slap himself.

 _Oh no._

Of course the pair caught on to his tone and Ms. Nobu scoffed, yet she avoided his gaze and instead looked to her husband who, still clearly flustered, loudly cleared his throat. "Well, be on your way then," he half stuttered, half mumbled as he awkwardly tried not to look at him without seeming rude or impolite. "Granny will worry if you...uh, get late…" His voice petered out and ended on a whisper, the attempt nothing more than a failure and the discomfort barely veiled.

Toshiro merely nodded and walked past them in as wide a birth as he could, perhaps too obvious in his desire to get away, but they wanted to leave as much as he did and so the show of disrespect, however slight, was ignored. Mrs. Nobu would no doubt tell all the old folk in the village how rude he had been later, though, with the way he had left without saying goodbye or whatever bogus thing she would come up with. And that was okay. People's opinion of him couldn't get any worse after all and it wasn't as if people cared much about Mrs. Nobu's and Ms. Takigawa's gossiping beyond using it to complain about him and curse his continued existence. Which was the only thing most people did when he was concerned.

 _Bigots._

The two of them stared after him and he could practically feel the fear and disgust burn a mark on his skin. He hadn't even disappeared past the swing before he heard them almost jog down the road and away. Toshiro grimaced and pressed the book in his hands closer to his side, knuckles white, his body shaking and head lowering, a cold flare burning in his chest.

Slowly, he breathed out and counted to ten as he shuffled down the forest path - past the farms and fenced fields, the sweaty hat, wearing workers and grazing cows - again and again until his foot touched the first terrace stair step of Granny's house.

"Where have you been?" a harsh, stern voice spoke and Toshiro's head jerked up. Black hair tied in a ponytail, brown eyes, a swirly-patterned blue and white kimono and a look of faux sternness. There was no question of who it was. "You're late Shiro-chan," Momo Hinamori said as she looked down at him, hands at her hips.

He frowned in annoyance and rolled his eyes, mouth twitching upward ever so slightly, "Yeah, as if you didn't just come from the library, Bed-wetter Momo." He walked up the rest of the steps with a slight pout, Momo's narrowed eyes following him until he stood right next to her. Then her mouth broke into a big grin and she beamed down at him.

"You're so mean, Shiro-chan," she laughed and ruffled his hair, her back slightly leaned over and one of her hands on her knees. It made it look like she was leaning down to play with the hair of her little baby brother. His eyes twitched.

Toshiro swatted her hand away and grumbled, "Don't call me that. It's Hitsugaya Toshiro, you hear? Hi-Tsu-Gaya To-Shiro!" He articulated his name slowly and loudly, and peered up at her with as annoyed and stern a look as he could muster.

Momo just smiled and straightened up, "Yes, yes, Shiro-chan, you're such a grown up." He snorted at her and once again rolled his eyes.

"Like you're one to talk."

She ignored the comment with an amused shake of the head and pointed at the door, "Granny kept the stew warm for us and she's already cut up the watermelons. There's still three hours or so till sundown, so we got time to play a game of spinning tops if you want."

That caught Toshiro's attention and he narrowed his eyes at her in slight suspicion. Momo hardly played spinning tops anymore - not with him or anyone else - not since he became the Champion of the last tournament. Again. For the fortieth time in a row. So why the sudden offer of a game?

Toshiro was just about to ask her, but she was already heading for the door. "Coming?" she looked over her shoulder as she opened it, still smiling as always and he nodded softly before following her inside.

Granny was seated on a red mat right by the stewpot in the middle of the room, a cup of tea in her lap. Two other mats were placed parallel to each other on either side of the pot, a wooden bowl with a spoon in it placed on the floor next to each of them. Steam rose from the stewpot and filled the room with an aroma of spices, thinly sliced beef, tofu, vegetables and starch noodles boiled in sweetened soy sauce. A small bowl of raw egg dip that sat next to Granny added to the scent of underlying sweetness that tickled Toshiro's palate and watered his mouth.

"There you are," Granny smiled and looked at them with a twinkle in her dark eyes, "I was about to eat it all myself!" She chuckled heartily and neither Toshiro nor Momo could help but grin at her as she beamed at them in turn. "Now sit, this old body is starving!"

* * *

Toshiro was suspicious, Momo could see it in his eyes when he glanced at her over the bowl of his dinner and through the delicious smelling steam of the stewpot. He was too smart to readily accept her willingness for a game without finding it conspicuous. They both knew she hated spinning tops just as much as they knew no one could beat him. No one had in decades unless he let them and that he rarely did, and then only her and Granny. The only reason she had even come with the offer was because she felt she owed him that much and she wanted the day to be a good one; one that he would remember fondly. Hopefully all the good would outweigh what she had to say.

"Thanks for the food, Granny." Momo said once all three of them were finished. Toshiro repeated the line politely with much less vigor than her. His disinterested and bored tone made her chuckle and shake her head, and she rebuked him for it. He just rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at her, though he smiled in slight amusement so she just laughed it off good-naturedly.

Granny chortled at their antics and shooed them toward the door. "Play nice with one another now, no arguing. Now get out! I'll clean up after dinner and once you're done outside there will be a plate of watermelons waiting for you on the terrace. Shoo!"

Momo laughed and Toshiro made a face that could either be amusement or pensiveness, which she couldn't tell, but then she never really could with him.

She headed for the door, but Toshiro remained seated on the mat for a little while longer, regarding Granny with a strange look. He almost looked a bit worried. Momo quirked a brow at that, hand hovering over the door knob, then Granny gave Toshiro a look, or perhaps they shared one, and he slowly rose to his feet and walked over to where Momo stood, hesitating only for a moment before he looked at her and said, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

They played spinning tops for almost an hour before they stopped and she lost all the games, as usual. Toshiro kept observing her, scrutinizing her for any clues as to what her motives were. He wasn't particularly subtle about it like he tended to be when he contemplated someone or something, and he even seemed a bit pouty to her. It made her a little irritated. Why couldn't he just enjoy the game? Why did he have to be so cynical?

Momo reprimanded herself as soon as the thoughts crossed her mind. She knew why he was the way he was and it was wrong of her to be mad at him for it. Even so she still was and that made her feel guilty and dirty.

She was excited about the news she had to tell Toshiro, though she also dreaded them because she knew he wouldn't take it well, at least not in the beginning. She was certain he would understand once she explained it all though. He was smart like that. He would understand her, accept it and forgive her. Sure, he would be bitter at first, but he was reasonable and he would be as happy for her as she was in the end. She hoped…

As they played, Toshiro slowly began to relax, his shoulders no longer as tense as they were. Momo felt herself relax as well and even began to enjoy the game in spite of her losses and ever growing anticipation. With time Toshiro cracked a smile and started to laugh, and then she could do nothing but grin along with him and laugh as they played and joked with one another until the sun finally began to set.

* * *

Two hours after dinner and almost an hour of playing, Toshiro and Momo sat on the terrace stairs, huge slices of watermelon boats in hand. The sun was setting in the horizon and their cabin bathed in orange and red light, the sky alight and the clouds shimmering pink. Birds whom had chittered throughout the day was now silent, the owls of the forest slowly waking and beginning to hoo. There wasn't even any wind rustling the seemingly pale green grass once painfully bright under the sun of high noon.

It was neither warm nor cold outside, the temperature pleasantly in between and the air fresh and light. Toshiro reveled in the scene, eyes transfixed at the orange, yellow and red half disk of the sun that seemed to slowly melt into the ground. Its light reflected off of everything, the shadows casted from the illumination long and dark and getting darker still as the earth swallowed the sun.

None of them said anything and it was completely silent. Tranquil and idyllic like it only ever was at sunset, and none of them wanted to break it though they knew they would. They always did. Momo always had something to say even if her words meant nothing at all. Today though, what she had to say was not meaningless chatter.

Toshiro had expected it, waited for it even, ever since she had asked him to play. He knew something was up, just not what and no matter how much he thought about it or observed her for answers, he could never quite figure it out. It was frustrating and he had begun to grow almost paranoid throughout dinner. As they played though, he found his worries slipping away until they were almost gone. Almost.

Now, sitting next to Momo on the terrace, feet dangling off the edge without ever quite reaching the ground she was so sturdily planted on, he could feel her tense up as she prepared herself to speak. Feelings of dread and excitement came over him and it was just as much his as hers, if not more palpable for Momo.

"Shiro-chan," she began slowly, hesitantly, eyes downcast as she wet her lips, "I need to tell you something." She shook her head a bit, "No, talk to you, I mean."

He glanced at her and tilted his head her way ever so slightly, seemingly uninterested as he spoke. "Mmhm," he took a bite of his watermelon and resumed watching the sun, "What about?" He could tell it was bad, real bad. But for whom?

Momo didn't answer, she just looked up at the sky, brows knit together and forehead creased, her brown eyes darting his way ever so often. "I was worried about you, you know." She finally said and it was not what he had expected.

Toshiro stared at her for a moment, unsure of what exactly she was talking about. He partly wanted to inquire why she was worried, but he knew she was stalling and it irritated him. She always had to beat around the bush with him, as if he was too sensitive to be given the words straight out, unfiltered and uncensored. Pure. So instead of asking he just scoffed and rolled his eyes at her, as if he found her words idiotic. "Well, that's just dumb."

"Don't be a brat." She snapped, not angrily or anything, but tiredly. "Please, Shiro-chan, be serious for once and listen. This is important."

"Don't you always tell me to lighten up?"

She glared at him and weakly elbowed him in the shoulder. He quickly looked away so she wouldn't see him grimace and muttered an apology he doubted she heard.

"When you were late I thought maybe you had gotten into a fight again or that Kouta and Suzu had-" she stopped, sighed in frustration and waved the watermelon boat in her hand around as she searched for the right words. After a bit she just gave up and let her hand fall, "-you know…." She shook her head, "They're despicable."

Toshiro avoided her gaze; he didn't want to see the pity in her eyes and the anger she felt for his behalf. It was just too intense and he didn't like it. Instead he looked down at the watermelon boat he held in his lap and tried not to think about the two siblings, about Kouta's black eye and how furious and hateful they had to be toward him now.

Momo sighed and stopped her efforts to make eye contact with him. Then she finished her watermelon, put it down on the terrace and folded her hands in her lap. Inhaling deeply and sharply, she squinted at the sun and said - her voice a seemingly impossible mixture of excitement, dread, happiness and guilt - "I'm leaving Junrinan to go to Seireitei. I'm going to go to the Academy and become a Shinigami."

* * *

 **A/N:** Wooh, chapter 3, finally done! Hope you enjoy reading this just as much I enjoyed writing it. Toshiro and Jidanbo's relationship was a joy to write; same with Momo. This chapter takes place 35 years after the last BTW. I'll let you all do the math with the ages. :)

Shoutout to RainbowStarMountain and The Glittery Ninja Espada for leaving wonderful and encouraging reviews each chapter. You - and all you other marvellous reviewers - are great and spectacular! Thank you all so much for your feedback.


	4. Chapter 4: Childhood Days pt 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach or the characters. They are Tite Kubo's no matter how much I wish they were mine. This is, of course, with the exception of my OCs.

Please see A/N at the end of the Chapter for details or information.

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Childhood Days pt. 3: The End of The World**

It was as if the world suddenly froze over and stopped working. His breath was snatched away and he could no longer pretend disinterest, head snapping up, eyes wide and feeling like they would pop out of their sockets as he stared at her. She might as well have slapped him or told him she was dying. Or even killed him.

The only response he managed to give was a feeble and confused, "Why?" To his own ears he sounded distant and muffled, as if he was hearing himself speak through water. Surely she couldn't be serious. Could she?

"It's hard to explain. I don't want to say something wrong, but please, Shiro-chan, you have to understand…" she spoke hesitantly, though there was an excitement and intensity to her words that made him want to pull back a bit. He remained as still as a sculpture of ice though and merely stared at her, expression still full of shock.

Momo continued with a bit more determination than before. "You remember a couple days ago when I came home late? When I went out with Tecchin an A-chan?" Toshiro nodded slowly though he was loathe to do so. He didn't want to hear this. The prank wasn't funny.

"Well, I never told you why, but I was late because I met this...guy, and he was a Shinigami and he was on patrol or something. I don't really know." Momo waved her hand dismissively, "Whatever he was doing isn't important, but you see-" she locked eyes with him then and now he could see just how excited she was, "-he came over to me while the others were in one of the shops. He looked a bit surprised, but not in a bad way, you know, like he was amused by the surprise or happy."

Again Toshiro nodded, this time to show he was still following her tale. A nasty lump had begun to form in his throat and it hurt to swallow. He knew just where the story was going; he had read more than enough novels, fairy tales, myths and legends to know, though right then and there he sorely wished he hadn't spent three fourths of almost every day for the last eternity with his nose buried in a book. Sometimes ignorance was bliss.

"He asked me what my name was, where I came from and how old I was, and I told him and then he got real quiet for a bit." Momo was growing increasingly more and more excited and eager, her speech quickening to the point where it was almost difficult to follow. "Then he asked me if I ever got hungry and I said yes."

She continued, but Toshiro hardly paid much attention to her. The gist of the story was basically that this guy or man, or whatever he had been, had sensed something special in Momo and told her that she had what it took to take - and perhaps even pass - the Shinigami Academy's entrance exam. Whatever that entailed or even meant.

When Momo was finished with her tale she looked at him expectantly. Toshiro had no idea what to say. He was completely lost for words and the world, momentarily frozen and ice cold, had slowly begun to spin around his head and he felt nauseous, his stomach heavy and twisting in on itself as if someone was tying knots with his innards while they laughed at his surprise.

' _Ahahaha, what did you expect? That she'd stay with you forever and always? Who's next to go, I wonder. Maybe Granny?'_

The sun was still glowing a bright orange. It had set so far that the sky was progressively growing dark, but the horizon was still set ablaze by red and orange fire that burned the clouds away and held back the encroaching stars with arms of light. On any other day it would have been beautiful, but today its grandeur felt wrong and misplaced. It had no place in the sky. It had no right to smile at the world.

Warmth still radiated from the sun, but it wasn't as strong as it had been a mere hour before, and it no longer reached Granny's cabin or the surrounding area.

A thin veil of mist, transparent and shimmering like a flickering ghost, had crept out from the forest and up from the ground and from beneath the cabin. It was so thin it was hardly visible, but it brought with it a spine crawling chill that stilled the air and the owls, and the very forest seemed to hold its breath beneath its ever increasing weight.

Finally Toshiro spoke, the words without feeling, blunt and straightforward. "You didn't answer my question." He hadn't noticed the mist or the creeping chill at all, eyes blankly staring at Momo.

She, however, shivered in the surprise chill and shrunk a bit, her hands burying into the small space between her thighs. "Shiro-chan…" she began and she looked oh so guilty. He almost wanted to let the issue go upon seeing her pained expression, but he couldn't just leave it be. He had to understand what it was all about and why she was doing it. Leaving him and Granny.

"It sounded so exciting, the way he spoke about the Academy and the life of a Shinigami. I want to see what it's all about. I want to understand why people hate them so much. The Shinigami I met seemed nice enough."

Toshiro scoffed at her explanation. He was getting angry now and his insides hurt; he wanted to throw up. "That's it? You want leave all of this-" he gestured to the cabin and the surrounding area -"and me and Granny, because you're curious?" His voice rose toward the end and almost broke. He couldn't believe it! She was really serious!

"No!" Momo leaped to her feet and violently shook her head. "That's not it!"

Toshiro jumped down from the terrace then, feet stomping the ground with - what seemed to him - an earth shaking _thud_ , and snapped, louder and angrier than he'd meant to, "Then what is it?!" Momo visibly winced and took an uncertain step back.

"It's not the only reason…" she murmured and looked down at her feet; there was a layer of frost on the ground and the soil had hardened a bit. "I thought maybe it would make things easier on Granny. All three of us becoming hungry isn't normal. Most souls don't need food and she's getting old. It can't be easy. Please, Shiro-chan, I'm not doing this to hurt you or Granny. I want this, I really do, and I don't want to make excuses for my wishes. Can't you understand?"

He could see the logic behind her words though he stubbornly tried not to. Toshiro felt his anger dissipate with a screech just like the air went out in a balloon when you poked a hole in it. Still he didn't relent, just crudely taped the hole shut with silver tape, though there was still an annoying leak that let all the air out.

Toshiro felt deflated and he knew he was fighting a losing argument, but he couldn't help it. Disheartened, but still nursing anger, he turned his flushed face away from her, eyes hot and prickly, and whispered, "But what about our promise?"

It was a low blow and he sounded so childish, so petulant and selfish, and like such a prick for bringing it up, that it made him furious at himself for sinking so far so quickly. He could see how the question hurt Momo, how it jarred her and made her grit her teeth in guilt and rightful anger, and he immediately wished he hadn't asked.

Years ago, Momo had made a promise to him. She had once been friends with Kouta and Suzu, but all that changed when she realized what kind of people they were and saw what they had done to him. The siblings - Kouta especially- hadn't taken it very well when he beat them in his first official game of spinning tops. That day was the first time Kouta hit him, though it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Toshiro had been hit before, mostly by adults, but even that rarely happened and when it did he could always hide it. Older people knew where to hit so that it wouldn't be seen; Kouta didn't. He cornered Toshiro when he was alone and gave him a black eye and a split lip.

He had never been hurt like that by another kid, and a friend of Momo's no less. Of course, he couldn't hide the damage though that wasn't for lack of trying. Momo knew about it right away and demanded to know who had done such a thing. He had tried not to tell her, changing the subject whenever he could, but she was relentless and in the end he gave in.

She had been completely up in arms when he told her, vehemently denying it, but when she came to accept the truth she was so furious that Toshiro swore she would have beaten the snot out of Kouta had Granny not calmed her down. If not even outright killed him.

Granny was mad about it too, but there wasn't a whole lot she or anyone could do. Both her and Toshiro had accepted that fact long ago, and they settled for taking care of one another. Granny still held up hope that things would get better and he did too for a while, though as he grew older he came to resign himself to the reality that it wouldn't. He would have to be content with Granny (and now Momo as well) mending him whenever he was down.

It was after a particularly bad fight with Kouta, a month or two after the first punch, that Momo had come with her promise.

"I'm sorry, Shiro-chan, I should have known. This is all my fault. I'm sorry." She had been crying and he had just stared at her without knowing what to do. "I'll make it up to you. I won't let him or any of them hurt you. I'll protect you and I won't leave you. I will, I promise."

Poor naive Momo. He had known even then that she wouldn't be able to keep her promise. It wasn't really a promise anyone could keep, but hearing her say those words and finally showing some semblance of awareness and understanding of him and his situation, that had meant more to him than anything else.

Toshiro had made a quiet promise to himself that day too; one he intended to keep. He would protect Momo, it was his duty as her brother and the least he could do for her. She was so innocent, so kind, naive and happy, and he had wanted to protect that soul of hers. He still did. Toshiro didn't want her to grow cynical and pessimistic like he had become. He didn't want her to lose her heart, her soul or her way in the world. If she ever did it would kill him and he would rather die than let that happen. That he swore.

"I'll come visit," Momo finally responded after much silence. She looked worried and concerned, and once again Toshiro wished he had kept his mouth shut. "Whenever I can, I'll come over; every weekend, summer, whenever! I'm not leaving you, not forever. I-I promise!" She sounded so desperate, her eyes watery and pleading him to understand. "Shiro-chan…."

Oh no, what was he doing? This was something she really wanted to do, something she looked forward to and was excited about, and here he was, ruining it for her with his selfishness. How could he do such a thing?

 _But how can she abandon me? That's selfish too!_

Toshiro's nails dug into his palms so deep it hurt; they drew blood, warm and hot and wet. All of this was wrong, it shouldn't happen. Why did she want to leave? Why couldn't she be content with what she had? She was happy with him and Granny! Wasn't she?

 _Am I?_

No, he couldn't do this to her. He was supposed to protect her hopes and dreams, not shatter them underfoot. Ugh, what a terrible brother he was!

"I-I understand," he breathed and looked at Momo. For a moment she looked surprised, her eyebrows raised almost all the way to her hairline, but then her brow wrinkled up and she worriedly bit her lower lip.

"You do? A-are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes, I get it," he lifted his palms up and tried his best not to seem defensive. "Really, I do. I- Sorry…" Toshiro sighed and shook his head. "You do what you want. What you have to do, whatever. I'll manage, so don't worry." He tried to smile reassuringly at her, but his mouth wouldn't settle correctly so it ended up as a puckered grimace. Right now he really wished he could just fly away on the wind, turn invisible or just melt away into nothing. Anything to get away from where he was.

Momo didn't look convinced, but she didn't ask again. She just walked past him and plopped down on the terrace with a heavy sigh. Toshiro - like a broken or jammed wheel - slowly turned her way, back turned to the now nearly gone sun, his limbs as heavy as stones.

"When are you leaving?" he pressed the question out through sucked in lips, his throat painfully dry. Couldn't it all just be over?

Momo glanced up at him. She was biting her lip again. "Next week, in about five days."

"Oh…."

He sat down next to her and together they silently watched the last of the sun get swallowed up by a yawning black horizon. Its light didn't keep the stars away anymore and they twinkled in the sky like bright white, tiny little candlelights. It almost looked as if they were smiling, Toshiro thought.

After a couple of minutes Momo stood up with a heavy sigh and whispered goodnight to him. Toshiro didn't respond; he barely acknowledged that she was speaking to him nor did he try to stop her from going inside. She was done. There was nothing more any of them could say so he let her go.

After a while he stood up too, though he didn't go inside. Instead, he climbed up on the roof of Granny's cabin and sat down, legs drawn up, chin resting on his knees and his arms wrapped around them, head inclined toward the sky.

The moon was up, though it was hardly visible. It was in the shape of a waning crescent and almost completely obscured by a thick fog. There was dark clouds coming in from the west carrying pouring rain. If the wind didn't turn, the district of Junrinan would be buried under poor weather for two days. Toshiro supposed it was fitting; even the sky was crying.

Well into the night, he still sat on the roof. No one came to get him and it wasn't until the clouds blocked the moon and drops of rain began to fall that Toshiro jumped down from the roof. He was already soaked all the way through when he opened the door to the cabin and went inside.

Granny sat in the exact same spot as before dinner, a warm blanket in hand. She stood up when he came in and gingerly wrapped it around him, a fond, compassionate smile pulling at her wrinkly face. Toshiro didn't say anything nor did he look at her. He merely let her dry him and wipe the wet streaks from his face with her thumb. If she knew them for what they were, she didn't say.

"Come, let's go to sleep." She whispered softly and slowly stroked his hair.

He let himself be guided to their shared bedroom and she tucked him into the blankets, wrapping them around him like a cocoon, safe and isolated from the cruelty of the world. Granny lay next to him then; her warmth seeped into him and he shivered as a cold he didn't know he'd felt thawed and melted away. He pretended not to notice Momo whom lay on the other side of Granny and soon enough he fell into an uneasy, fitful sleep.

* * *

For the next couple of days, Momo kept asking if it was truly okay for her to go. Each time he told her yes and then he'd come with some snarky remark to make her think he was sincere and perfectly fine with it all. She didn't buy it at first, but as the days wound on, her worries faded and on the eve of her departure she was as excited and sure of her decision as one could be. She was convinced he'd accepted it and forgiven her; that he wasn't mad at her, but was in fact happy for her. He did his best to ensure she kept thinking that.

Toshiro stood next to Granny just outside the West Gate of Seireitei and watched Momo say her last goodbyes to her friends, Tatsukichi and Ayumi, or Tecchin and A-chan as she called them. His eyes were heavy with sleep and it felt like he had swallowed a basket full of rocks. It was all he could do to keep from throwing up.

Earlier that morning, Momo had enthusiastically roused him from a deep sleep and he still felt its heavy arms around him. He had dreamed something, or at least he thought he did, because that was how it felt, though he couldn't remember anything. There were remnants of sensations tickling his skin; a cold chill nipping at his flesh, a pressure of ice on his chest and all around him, his palms brushed with lightning and power. In his ears there was thunder. Or perhaps just earwax.

Momo had said her goodbyes and now she ran with gleeful excitement toward the Gate. "See ya later!" she called and waved over her shoulder. "I'll be staying in the dormitories, but I'll come see you whenever I have the chance!" Her words were directed at him as well as at Tatsukichi and Ayumi, but mostly at him. A stupid and pointless way to reaffirm their promise. It made him scowl and scoff.

"Don't bother coming back here ever again, Bedwetter-Momo!" he yelled, but she was already at the Gate and thus too far away to hear it. It made him both happy and angry that his words were left unacknowledged, and relieved and aggrieved at the fact that he knew she would think them a mere joke had she heard them. He didn't know whether or not he wanted her to hear him or not.

Two warm, soft and sturdy hands were placed on his shoulders and Granny spoke into his ears. "Why would you say such a thing to your sister, Toshiro?" It wasn't a question he was meant to answer, but one that would make him think. Still he answered, and he did so as nonchalantly as he could.

"Whatever. It's not like she's gone forever." In his ears it came off as petulant and childish, but he really didn't care about that, even if both he and Granny knew he was better. He had every right to be angry.

She sighed and moved to stand next to him instead of behind, one of her hands coming up to lightly touch the back of his head soothingly. "My, my, how rude. Even though you won't see her in a while, you say such things." Granny brushed off his answer rather than comment on it, choosing instead to move on. The both of them knew she didn't have anything to say about it because there was nothing to say. It was what it was.

Momo yelled something from way over by the now open Gate. Toshiro - who stood with his arms behind his head - stuck out his tongue at her. Behind him Granny chuckled, but there was a noticeable lack of mirth in her tone in comparison to her usual jolly laughter.

Toshiro's arms fell to his side and he breathed in deeply and shakily. Momo was past the Gate now and it was closing behind her. He could hardly see her now; she was like a tiny black dot in the distance that steadily grew smaller as she walked further and further away. It took all his strength no to break into a run after her. Toshiro wanted little more than to grab a hold of her and drag her back home with him, but the both of them had made their choice and so he planted his feet solidly into the ground, and silently watched Momo walk away with his entire world in hand.

* * *

 **A/N:** No, you're eyes are not deceiving you, I really _did_ just post a double chapter. You see, chapter 3 and 4 was originally one chapter, but it got a _little bit_ too long, so I split in two. Now here we are! I could probably have held back a chapter, but since you guys are so nice, I thought I'd give you a little more content to read. Please leave a review if you want, it's much appreciated, but as long as you read and enjoy it, I'm more than happy regardless if you comment or not. Have a wonderful day (or night if you read in bed when you really shouldn't, like me) and I sincerely hope to see you next chapter!

Before I close this, a little teaser for next chapter: "Next time, in _'Dreams of Ice',_ Toshiro's life is on the verge of crumbling even more as his dreams is plagued by terror and confusion. What path will his life end up taking and what is that voice he keeps hearing at night? Tune in to find out!"

Idk why I did that, but if you liked it and want me to continue, by all means, tell me. Until next time, smile and have fun! Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5: Dreams of Ice

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach or the characters. They are Tite Kubo's no matter how much I wish they were mine. This is, of course, with the exception of my OCs.

Please see A/N at the end of the Chapter for details or information if present.

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Dreams of Ice**

I dream of a plain of ice...

 _There was nothing but white as far as the eye could see. Swirls of snow and hail rained from black clouds, and ripped through the air on torrents of storming winds. To see anything at all was impossible; the world was a white mass of nothing, biting cold and mercilessly cruel._

 _Through snow as deep as the ocean was wide, he waded and plowed, legs almost completely buried by the crushing whiteness. His arms were raised toward the wind like shields, but it trashed and tore into him from all directions, pressing and pulling and pushing. Ice bit into his flesh and his skin slowly turned blue, and no amount of shielding could protect him. There was no cover to be found; all there was, was snow, ice and chilling winds, whatever landscape that surrounded him completely swathed in cold winter._

 _With each step he took in the snow, he became slower, weaker, breath steaming in the air as he gasped for oxygen that didn't freeze his insides or cut his lungs. It felt as if he stood still and looked like it too. The path he had plowed behind him was filled with snow and vanished as soon as it was made. The snow looked completely and utterly untouched in front and behind him, as if the world didn't have a beginning or end, as if it was endless and filled with nothing but snow and ice. A winterland. Empty, dead and cold save for him, a tiny white soul all alone in a cold and cruel world._

* * *

 **Soul Society, Junrinan, First District of West Rukongai**

Toshiro sat leaned against the massive roots of the largest wisteria tree in all of Junrinan, perhaps even in all of Rukongai. He had a book in his lap and a straw in his mouth, and was dressed in loose, light blue clothes that rippled slightly in the faint northern breeze. The branches of the wisteria tree hung low and their pink flowers brushed the top of his head, and tall grass tickled his bare arms and shins.

Five years had passed since Momo left to join the Shinigami Academy and nothing had really changed in Junrinan. The lives of everyone else moved on and time passed for them, but his had frozen solid. Outwardly, Toshiro was the same as he had been five years before, a fact that became painstakingly clear whenever he stood next to Momo.

He hadn't grown at all and was as small as the day she left, whereas Momo had grown taller and seemingly older, features more defined and subtly mature, her hair longer and her clothes less colorful and childish. She was no longer like a child, but an adolescent on the cusp of womanhood, a goal and an ambition in mind. In comparison to her, he was like an overgrown baby.

The sound of singing larks sounded from the other side of the river and his eyes were drawn to it for a moment. It had rained for five days straight and the stream was strong and quick, the river's size twofold. If anyone attempted to swim they would be dragged downstream and most likely drown. The river was deeper than it looked and already it had claimed many lives.

He turned his attention back to the book.

Toshiro wasn't afraid of the river like everyone else. He came there almost every day and sat down beneath the wisteria tree on the hill, a picnic bag with food and books under his arms. And there he sat till the sun disappeared behind the treetops and sometimes longer. There were even times when he slept in between the roots of the tree, in a little hollow space shielded from the elements of nature. Each time he returned home, Granny would be waiting for him with food prepared.

When Toshiro didn't spend the day under the tree, he sat at the porch or in his and Granny's shared room, reading or drawing or just staring up at the sky, mind both empty and full, but too confused to make sense. Only the tree on the hill and Granny's cabin were lone, quiet places where people didn't come and he could be alone in the safe company of himself and Granny.

Sometimes, Toshiro had to go into the village to buy food because Granny was too weak, and he dreaded each and every time. It was annoying and uncomfortable, and at times painful if he was unlucky enough to bump into Kouta. That didn't happen often though because Toshiro practically never went into the village and certainly not to the city. Granny still had friends that would come give her food so long as Toshiro wasn't there.

Two years had passed since he went to the city of Junrinan and two and a half since he had last seen or spoken with Jidanbo. He was a horrible friend, but he simply couldn't bring himself to go there and see those accursed white walls.

"There you are!" a jolly voice called out from the edge of the trees. Toshiro suppressed a groan and glanced up from his book with an annoyed scowl. Momo, adorned in the red and white kimono that was the girl's uniform of her school, jumped up and down and waved wildly at him.

He didn't move or speak as she climbed up the small hill, just stared at her as she came to a stop and put her hands on her hips. "You never go anywhere else, do you, huh, Shiro-chan?" she grinned.

Toshiro rolled his eyes, "And you never wear anything else" he snorted. Momo just laughed at his jibe and kept grinning at him as she stretched out a hand for him to lift himself up with.

"Come on, Granny's waiting. She said you've been gone all day." Her grin faded and she grew stern. "She worry you know."

He looked away and down at the river without taking her hand. "Whatever."

Momo pursed her lip and lightly shook her head, then she sighed and her smile was back. "I bought a _huge_ watermelon in Seireitei. It's gigantic!" she said and spread her arms out twice as far as she was wide, a big enthusiastic grin on her face. Toshiro raised his eyebrows and looked at her askance.

"Don't joke with me."

"I'm not! It's really that huge!" Momo insisted with a laugh. "It'll last you a month and a half, at least!"

"Mhm, sure." He rolled his eyes and, supporting himself on the roots, stood up. He barely reached past her navel.

"I wouldn't lie! Come on, we can eat some of it on the porch later, watch the sun and, you know, talk, like we used to."

Toshiro shrugged and brushed past her without looking at her. "Yeah, I guess. Let's just go home. I'm hungry."

* * *

 _It was so cold. Colder than anything he had ever felt. He was like a block of ice, frozen solid, heavy and stiff, any motion impossible. He couldn't move or see, and he could hardly feel or hear anything. A hurricane wind ripped and tore at him, but he was frozen to the ground like glue and he didn't budge. Couldn't, even if wanted to._

I feel the presence of ice...

 _A heavy biting chill pressed into him, surrounded him and ate its way through his skin, his flesh and his bones. It gnawed at him, slowly but relentlessly, and he desperately wanted to scream, but all sound was frozen in the air. He knew, with absolute certainty, that he was dying._

* * *

Momo left the next day. She always did. When she visited, she only stayed a day. No more, sometimes less, the only exception the summer and christmas times when she stayed for a little while longer, but never more than a month.

Toshiro half-heartedly raised his hand in goodbye there he sat on the roof and quietly watched her skip happily down the road. When she disappeared round the bend, he jumped down onto the ground with a thud.

The desire to stop her had faded years ago and now he was happy to see her go. More or less. He hated that he felt that way, but he couldn't help it. Her visits was more an annoyance than anything else because she talked so much about her new life, the things she saw and experienced, and a man named Aizen.

He had apparently saved her life when she and her class traveled to the living world and was attacked by a Hollow. Momo had begun to admire the man, whom she said was the best Captain in all of Gotei 13. Toshiro had heard about Hollows, but he knew next to nothing about the majority of what she talked about and most of it was just gibberish. But he didn't care about any of it and didn't want to know anything more about how perfect 'the kind _Captain Aizen_ ' was, or how the Gotei 13 or whatever functioned. It had nothing to do with him and never would. She talked about it more than enough, anyway.

Momo almost never asked him what he was up to, what he was feeling or thinking, or even what he wanted to do. She just talked and talked about things he didn't care anything for. It was great that she was happy, and he wanted so badly to be truly, genuinely happy for her too, but it was all he could do to pretend joy whenever she came to visit.

"...Toshiro" Granny muttered and she sounded so sad. She sat on a mat on the porch, a teacup in her lap. He could tell she wanted to walk over to him, but she was too weak. She had grown so thin in the last few years, emaciated almost, and it hardly seemed as if Momo noticed.

"Hey, I'm gonna buy some amanatto" Toshiro called to her. "We're running out!" he pressed out a smile, even though he knew she saw right through it. He didn't give her time to answer nor did he stick around to see her reaction. Her eyes were always sad and tired now.

* * *

I hear a voice…

 _The cutting wind carried with it a whisper, but there was no words. It was a cry, a calling for something or someone, and for each step he took, it grew louder and louder. Yet he couldn't make out any words. He tried to scream for whoever was calling to come closer and to speak louder, but his voice wouldn't carry on the wind._

Crushing… Engulfing…

 _It pressed into him along with the wind and the snow as if they were all one in the same. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't hear. "Please, stop!" his cry didn't come out because his mouth was frozen shut and still the voice cried out oh so painfully to his body._

 _But then it seemed to relent and grow distant, the wind ceasing its relentless onslaught to softly caress his skin like a loving parent. He stood frozen, his once raised arms now fallen to his side, and stared ahead at a far off shape that coiled and curled in the air like a snake. What exactly it was, was impossible to tell, but it grew ever closer and larger, though it was still little more than a shadow in the distance._

Brushing against my hand like a delicate flower...

 _The voice whispered tenderly and he could feel it touch his flesh as if it was a real, tangible thing. For a moment he thought he could make out a word and he stretched out his hand toward the serpentine shadow, fingers cutting through the wind that steadily began to increase again. Perhaps he could snatch the words from the winds that carried it. Or perhaps the wind was the words. But he couldn't. His fingers were frozen blue, cold and stiff and creaking at every movement. It was all he could do to lift his arms._

 _Still, he moved a step because he simply couldn't stand still. He had to get to that shadow, talk to it and hear what it said. He was certain that it was the shadow whom whispered and called to him, and he moved to it compulsively, pulled to it like a magnet. But no sooner had he taken a step than the snow surrounded him on all sides and dragged him down. He had fallen to the ground and he was drowning in white, the cold now truly turning his body into ice._

 _Snow surrounded him and buried him, pressed the air from his lungs and suffocated him. His sight faded, whitening at the edges and then he became cold. So impossibly cold. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't hear. He couldn't even feel anything anymore and his world was nothing but white emptiness._

On that plain of ice, I die…

* * *

"That's three kan change," the shopkeeper, Mr. Nobu, said without looking at him, face turned slightly away as if he thought he'd die or become smitten by some horrible disease if he did.

Toshiro ignored the slight quiver in Mr. Nobu's voice, grabbed the bag of amanatto beans on the counter and stretched out his hand so that the man could give him the change. Except Nobu didn't. Instead the shopkeep dropped them on the counter and turned his back on him without as much as a 'thanks for buying' or any acknowledgement.

For a moment Toshiro stood still, his hand hovering in the air, shaking slightly, then he silently took the change and looked down at the three coins in his hands. They were warm to the touch and a bit clammy with sweat, and made his skin look horribly pale. Almost sickly.

He clenched his hand around them to get rid of the shaking and was just about to turn and leave the shop, when a voice screamed from behind. "Hey! Dropping the change on the counter, is that any way to treat you customers!?"

Toshiro almost jumped out of his skin and whipped around on his heels to see who it was that had made his ears bleed. But when he turned, he hit something large, round and soft, and bounced off it so hard the back of his head crashed into the counter. He fell to the ground with a thud, teary-eyed and with hands pressing down on a large, aching bump on his head.

"Think you could get away with it because he's a kid or something!? Who would have thought you could be so rude!"

Looking up, Toshiro saw that it was a woman who was yelling so loudly. She was shamelessly voluptuous, and tall as a tree in comparison to him, just like everyone else, and her long hair was flaming ginger. Toshiro would have thought her the fancy dress wearing type based on her objectively attractive appearance, but she was clad in a simple black uniform that made her hair an even brighter ginger. There was a faint smell of ash coming from her too that made Toshiro strangely queasy.

The woman was furious, hands at her hips, her entire body bristling like a cat whose fur stood on end. Her blue eyes seemed to almost burn with bright wildfire and when their anger and irritation suddenly turned to him, he involuntarily flinched in surprise and discomfort.

She glared down at him and roughly picked him up by the scruff of his kimono. "And you!" she screamed in his face, "If you're a man don't just lie there crying about it!" He squirmed furiously in her grip and tried to pry her hands loose, but she held him in a vice grip. The scent of ash was now so strong it made him dizzy. "If you're a man, you should stand up for yourself like one!"

Still with tears in his eyes, Toshiro felt his face heat up with anger and embarrassment, a vein popping out by his temple, viciously throbbing to the point where his head began to hurt.

Completely red-faced and flushed, he snapped and screamed right back at her. "You're the one who knocked me down! And I wasn't crying!" He twisted almost desperately in her grip, a roar building in his stomach, guttural and furious. It felt like there was a monstrous snake coiling in his gut.

And it roared, "Get off!"

Suddenly the woman stilled and stared at him in obvious curiosity, her blue eyes blinking slowly in slight confusion and annoyance, brows furrowed. Her grip on Toshiro's kimono loosened and her head tilt a bit to the side in an almost catlike fashion. As soon as Toshiro felt that he, still red and fuming, slapped her hand as hard as he could and screamed.

"I said get off!"

She dropped him immediately and withdrew her hand with a yelp of surprise as if stung. The moment Toshiro's feet found the ground, he bolted out of there like the wind, the bag of amanatto still in hand.

"Ah!" The woman cried out for him. "Hey, wait right here!" Toshiro just kept on running.

He ran and ran, and didn't stop until he was safe inside Granny's cabin. It wasn't until late that night that he managed to calm down, but even then the coiling snake in his stomach didn't settle and followed him into his dreams.

* * *

I hear a voice…

 _He could see the moon. It was a crescent lamp in the black starless sky, a half smile. He hadn't seen it since he had first set foot on the white plain of ice five years ago. It was so bright. So, so bright. Yet almost all of it was swallowed by darkness. Where had it been when he was swallowed by the blizzard? When he had died under a heavy white blanket, all the air pressed from his lungs again and again? Where had it been in the blank white nothingness?_

An echoing voice…

 _The nothingness that brought with it that voice. That voice that never left. That voice that always remained behind even as the white became black, and the body cold. He could hear it now, in the distance, growing slowly and steadily louder. It brushed against his ear, whispered and called, and he stretched his hand toward it. Toward the moon._

Crushing… Engulfing… Falling into my hand…

 _It glowed so brightly now that he couldn't look at it. His vision turned a burning, flashing white. So bright, so bright it hurt. And so powerful. He could feel it in his hands and body, a maelstrom of pure energy, power the likes of which even the imagination couldn't conjure or comprehend. It came from the moon, yet from him too, and it came ever closer, as if the energy inside him called for that of the moon. For the booming thunderous voice._

Just like thunder…

 _And with a boom it crashed into the ground in front of him, the very earth shaking and cracking under its force, his body reverberating with the thunder of that echoing voice. And now that voice had a form._

 _Before him stood a dragon of unparallelled proportions, created by water, snow and the air itself, all compressed into pure, glistening ice. Its head reached through the very clouds above, its serpentine body coiled together and its tail - sharper and deadlier than the most razor-edged sword - cut through the air with such power and speed that the barrier of sound exploded._

 _The dragon's eyes glowed a bright ruby red, burning with a cold fire that missed nothing. They tore into his very soul, just like the wind that had begun to rage and the swirls of biting snow. Obscured by mist and crackling electricity that made the air fizzle with visible blue energy, its wings seemed to stretch out into eternity and beyond, just like the dragon itself did. Its power was so immense it was crushing, and his legs shook beneath its pressure, his breath caught in his throat, ragged with awe and disbelief._

 _"What the hell-" he gasped. "-are you?"_

 _Then the dragon roared with such strength it pushed him back. **"Little boy! You have-"** The words were drowned by a howling torrent of wind, snow and hail that surrounded the both of them like a dividing chasm. A chasm he could not cross._

"What are you saying?!" he screamed up at the dragon, his arms raised in a desperate, half-hearted attempt to shield against the wind and the forces of winter. "I can't hear you!"

 _Ruby red eyes peered down at him with such sadness and desperation that it made his heart ache so much he thought it would break, and he tried with all his might to take a step forward, to fight the damned wind that pushed him further and further back, and blocked out the dragon's voice. But try as he might, he couldn't get any closer nor could he hear what the dragon wanted so desperately to say._

 _ **"My name is-"** it roared, but the wind, snow and hail had grown so much in strength that they had become a deadly blizzard ravaging the white winter plain._

 _It swirled around him and the dragon, drowned them and soon he could see nothing but white, the voice that had been with him for so long growing distant. Then, it was suddenly gone and he could hear nothing but the roaring rage of the blizzard. Until another sound broke through the crescendo. A distant, strange, yet familiar voice that lifted him away from the plain and into consciousness._

* * *

Toshiro's eyes snapped open and he gasped for air, eyes wide and body covered in cold sweat. His pajama clung to his skin, clammy and sticky, and _cold_.

"Hey!"

The red headed woman from the shop stood leaned over his head, waving or saluting down at him. She was smiling slightly, but yet she didn't seem happy

Toshiro let out a yelp of surprise, turned over on his stomach in a scramble and propped himself up on his elbows. "Why you-" He glared up at her, the angry beast coiling in his gut, rumbling a thunderous growl. What in the world was she doing here? How did she get inside? Did she break in?! "From before-"

"Your reiatsu. Stop leaking it everywhere and get some sleep." She interrupted and the quirk of her lips faded as she spoke.

He stopped dead mid-sentence and halfway to his feet, eyes wide as saucers

Frost - tiny, shimmering little crystals of ice - covered the walls, floor and ceiling like a carpet made of glitter. It was concentrated in the sleeping area around Toshiro and...Granny. She was covered in hoarfrost, rime in her hair and on her carpet. There was even snow! A light little dusting of white powder speckled on her face. When she breathed, her breath turned to vapor in the air and she shivered like mad, trembling as if shook.

"Your grandma looks pretty cold." The red headed woman said, still leaning over him. He said nothing, just stared at his Granny, tongue swollen and dry.

What had he done? Oh God, what had he done!? How was it even possible! This-this frost. This chill. It was coming from him. He was hurting Granny. How had he not known? Not seen it before?

Oh no…. Granny must have cleaned it all up; ensured he wouldn't know. She must have woken up before e did and washed it all up so he wouldn't see it. She must have. She must have. There was no other explanation. None.

But why would she do that!?

"...Kid," the woman's voice had softened a bit and she was no longer leaning down. He kept staring at Granny. "You should become a Shinigami."

His eyes snapped to to the woman and he stared wide-eyed at her from where he sat on his knees, mouth open in shock. "Wha-!?"

"Kids with power as strong as yours need to know how to bring that power under control." Once again she interrupted him. "You know, if you stay here like this-" she looked at him grimly, voice harsh and without pretense, "-you'll end up killing that grandmother of yours with that power soon enough."

 _What...no..._

Did that mean that Granny's poor health - that she was sick, deteriorating, _dying_ \- was because of him? That it was all his fault?

No! He leapt to his feet in a shocked panic like a sprung arrow, right in her face. "What are you-!?"

She stopped him with a mere poke in the chest and pushed him down so that he sat on his knees once again. She hunched down, her blue eyes level with his. "You hear a voice calling out, right?"

Toshiro stared at her, lost for words.

"Once you properly discover that voice," she continued, "you'll understand to control that power."

No, he didn't want to hear it. No. He knew what she would say.

Her eyes were unrelenting and grave, and what she said next was like a thousand stabs to the heart. "But that means becoming a Shinigmai." Suddenly she looked sad, eyes filled with pity and sympathy. He wanted to scream at her and tell her not to look at him like that.

 _Please, don't..._

"I'll only say it once more, kid." She stilled and removed the hand whose fingers pressed against his chest. The skin where they had been felt cold with their absence.

* * *

It was silent as the grave. Toshiro knelt directly on the floor, head bowed in the dogeza position. Granny sat on a mat in front of him, a cup of tea in hand as she always did, vapor rising from it. They had sat like that for almost five minutes since Toshiro had finished telling his tale of the night before. He was waiting for her to blow up, yell at him and curse him for leaving. Just like Momo…

She looked at him pensively. "Is that right?" she said slowly. He clenched his jaw and steeled himself for the storm. But it didn't come. "That's wonderful."

His eyes widened and he slowly lifted his head, disbelief and confusion playing havoc with his mind and making him stare incredulously at her. She...wasn't mad? But why not? She should be! He was abandoning her! The cabin! Their home! Everything!

 _And she looks happy..._

"You've been holding everything in all this time," Granny sipped her tea and looked at him with those soft, warm chocolate eyes of hers. "Thinking that you don't want to leave your old Granny all alone."

A pressure began to build behind Toshiro's eyes and in his nose. He couldn't stop staring at her, his beloved Granny, and her loving gaze never left his. She smiled.

"But you know, just thinking of me and hurting yourself like that," she shook her head and there was pained, unexpressed sorrow in her eyes, "I think for me, as your grandmother, that's the hardest thing of all."

 _I hear a voice...'_

The pressure was far too intense. He couldn't hold it in anymore.

 _Far...near...I hear it resounding..._

They fell slowly at first. Tiny little wet streaks. Toshiro bowed his head in shame. They fell faster. Runnels of wet, hot salt mingled with snot. He felt like a dumb self-absorbed child weeping selfishly for the things he couldn't have. Weeping for the life he had almost taken and the one he had to leave behind.

 _Now I decide to search..._

A small, warm hand was placed upon his head, stroking it lightly. He hiccuped and inhaled sharply in a futile attempt to stifle his cries. Within his gut, the once coiling dragon was stilled and in his ears, a faint and distant echo of a voice whispered inaudible words of comfort.

 _To find it and move onward._

Toshiro wanted to scream. To tell Granny he wasn't going to leave, but he knew he couldn't stay. His desires didn't matter. Hers did. And so did her life. More than his. He would have to leave, become a Shinigami and learn to control his powers. No matter what. But right now, all he could do was weep in Granny's lap and ignore the fact that she was crying too.

 _Even if I die on this plain of ice._

* * *

 **A/N:** Right, so you may have noticed I changed the title of this story a bit, switching out the "field" portion with the word "plain." In case your confused or curious, I did it because I want the title to correlate with the story, but more specifically this chapter. Some of the translations of the chapter a lot of the dialogue in here is taken from used "field" whereas some others used "plain". I went with plain because it sounds better.

And, sorry princessarrtz, but no double chapter this time. Chapter 6 is only about 600 words, so...yeah.

Now for the teaser: "Next time, in _'The Test,'_ Toshiro enters the city of the Shinigami to join the academy. But what's this! He isn't allowed!? Wait, what!?"


	6. Chapter 6: The Test

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach or the characters. They are Tite Kubo's no matter how much I wish they were mine. This is, of course, with the exception of my OCs.

Please see A/N at the end of the Chapter for details or information if present.

* * *

 **Chapter 6: The Test.**

 **West Gate of Seireitei, Junrinan, First District of West Rukongai**

He had almost forgotten how big the gates of Seireitei were. It had been years since he had stood before the West Gate and looked upon its white stone, smooth and solid and _old._ It stretched up toward the sky like one of the titanic jotuns of myth, a mountain that dwarfed the biggest men and made ants of the small.

The West Gate had never been a scary thing to Toshiro, even if it made him but a speck of dirt, and served as a divide between the privileged and the unprivileged. The large and the small. The divine and the normal. It had always seemed an impenetrable thing, insurmountable. And he liked that. It maintained a distance between him and the Shinigami beyond, even if they still walked among the souls of Rukongai from time to time.

 _An illusion. A lie._

"Big, uh?" the ginger haired woman, Matsumoto she said her name was, smiled down at him with a knowing gleam in her eyes. "I balked when I saw it for the first time, years ago, but you've been this close before haven't you?"

Toshiro nodded quietly without looking at her and they fell into silence. For a moment Matsumoto looked as if she wanted to comment, but then she gestured for them to keep moving instead and he awkwardly trailed after her, doing his best to avoid looking at anyone as they headed for the gate.

 _They're staring…_

They came to a stop before it and the ground started to rumble and shake like the throaty roar of a dragon. Slowly the gate was pulled up and open by large and muscular fingers the size of baby deers, dust from the sandy ground billowing outward from beneath it.

"Oi, _Shiro-chaaaan!"_ a familiar voice bellowed and Toshiro visibly cringed.

Jidanbo grinned down at him hugely like a fool, white teeth flashing. He held the gate over his head with his bare hands and yelled in overexcitement. "I knew you would come here one day, Shiro-chan. I knew!"

"Please, Jidanbo, don't yell," Toshiro put his fingers in his ears and grit his teeth at the painful tinnitus, "it hurts."

The giant hadn't changed a bit in the two years since they had spoken last. He was just as loud, direct and emotional. There were tears of joy in his eyes and snot coming from his nose.

"It's been so long!" he bawled.

Toshiro looked down at the ground. "I know, Jidanbo, I know, I-"

"You gonna love it, Shiro-chan. Hinamori will be so excited!" Jidanbo grinned from ear to ear, and wiped away the tears and the snot, completely oblivious in his joy to the fact that Toshiro was speaking. "You're gonna be great! I know it!"

Matsumoto looked between the two with a smile. Toshiro inwardly cringed and prayed she wouldn't comment on the _incredibly_ awkward situation. It seemed God or whoever was at the top, was on his side today.

"Sorry to cut it short, big guy, but we really have to be on our way." She smiled at Toshiro slyly "Shiro-chan can come visit you later when he's all settled."

Toshiro suppressed the urge to stick out his tongue or make a face at her, and instead looked at Jidanbo with what he hoped was a passable smile. "Sure, when I have the time."

It took another five minutes before Jidanbo quieted down enough for them to leave and when they could, they practically almost jogged through the gate. Toshiro hated himself for feeling relieved, but the situation had been so awkward that he couldn't help it.

Matsumoto stared at him as they walked beside one another, a quirked smile about her lips. Toshiro glared at her as coldly as he could in the hopes that she would get the hint and keep her mouth shut.

Seireitei was more bland than he thought it would be. There was nothing grand about it, nothing spectacular or eye catching. It was all just white, monotonous block houses of stone, and straight streets without any round bends or curves, only completely symmetrical turns. All the houses even had the same rustic colored tile roofs with arched eaves. The only difference was their size, but for the most part even that was the same. Toshiro felt like he was walking in a maze and he had the distinct feeling it was intentional.

But as they continued to walk, turn after endless turn of monotonous sameness, things began to change. The scenery slowly, almost imperceptibly, opened up bit by bit. The streets grew wider, the distance between the houses increased and so too did the shape and size of the houses themselves. Toshiro didn't notice it until he suddenly stood at the edge of a large open square.

There were other people in the square. Some milled about without doing much of anything. Others walked with hurried, purposeful steps toward whatever errand they had to do. Almost everyone wore the same clothes as Matsumoto: a black kimono with a white undergarment. Some had colorful scarves or other accessories, and others had shortened their sleeves, but with the exception of a few, all were dressed the same.

Toshiro knew those dressed differently were students as he recognized the student uniform. And that meant the building on the right end of the square was the school.

Out of all the buildings around, it was by far the largest. It was several stories high, surrounded by a tall white wall with a rust colored rail for a roof, and was in the same color as everything else. The school was made of the white stone that seemed to be everywhere, and the roof was a rustic red in color with a little tint of gold in the sunlight, just like the tile roofs. It wasn't tile, though, but smooth polished stone, the eaves lightly curved.

The school itself was in the shape of half a square, the two wings slightly smaller than what Toshiro perceived to be the main building which they flanked and were connected to. On the outer wall surrounding the school and facing the square, there was some sort of golden yellow symbol, evenly spaced and symmetrical, just like the windows on the building itself. The gate into the school's massive courtyard was an open archway that was taller than the wall and that had an arched rust colored, stone roof.

 _How inviting…_

Matsumoto nudged him gently toward the gate he had stopped in front of. "Don't worry," she said and smiled, "I'm with you all the way." She placed a hand that was no doubt meant to be comforting on his shoulder. Toshiro snorted and shook it off. She didn't put it back.

Together, they entered the courtyard. Toshiro kept his eyes locked on the main entrance and ignored everyone. The door seemed terribly far away. It wasn't getting any closer. It was swaying and blurring in front of him. He wanted to hurl. Couldn't it all be over soon.

Matsumoto swung the door open and Toshiro entered. She gestured for him to keep walking and then she followed him in, the door closing without a sound as she let it go.

Just like the streets and houses of Seireitei, the corridors of the Shinigami Academy was all the same. There was nothing distinguishing them from one another except from the number signs above the doors and by the stairs. Room and floor numbers. That was it. There was no map anywhere.

Toshiro had no idea where he was and completely lost track of all the turns they took and all the stairs they walked up. Everything blurred and became a mess of brown wooden floors and ceilings, and white walls. Until, suddenly, they came to a stop in front of a massive brown door bigger than any they had passed.

He looked up at Matsumoto. She was staring at him as if she was expecting some sort of reaction. Awe? Curiosity? Confusion? Excitement? Whatever it was, she would get none. Toshiro kept his face blank and his emotions unexpressed. She seemed a bit disappointed.

Matsumoto knocked three times and, without waiting for an answer, kicked the door open with a big grin and yelled " _Shiiiiiioriiii-chaaaan_ , I got a present for you!" It seemed overdone to Toshiro.

The only other person in the room, a black-haired woman with glasses who sat behind a large oak desk, startled and jumped in her chair, the papers she held flying out of her hand. "What the-!? Matsumoto! Are you daft? You can't burst in like that. I'm working!"

"Oh, come now, Shiori-chan, we both know what you were really looking at!"

Shiori reddened and she hurriedly collected the spread out papers on her desk and from the floor. "How many times must I tell you? It's Hirata-san, not Shiori. I'm Headmistress of this school and you are to address me properly."

"Don't change the topic, Shiori-chan! It just makes you seem guilty."

Hirata shook her head and turned to Toshiro. He stiffened slightly under her questioning look, but met her gaze head on nonetheless.

"Who is this?" she glanced at Matsumoto

"The present."

 _I'm not an object..._

Hirata looked a Toshiro again, a bit more closely this time, her eyes scrutinizing. She seemed a bit confused for a moment, her brow furrowed, but then she realized something, her eyes widening in surprise.

"A student?" she looked at Matsumoto in disbelief.

"Bingo!"

"But he's a kid."

Toshiro snorted sourly and glared at her. He was far more mature than Matsumoto; he was no kid. And yet she was a Shinigami. That spoke volumes of them. They had to be fools to let a dunce like her in.

Hirata continued without acknowledging his presence or reaction. "You know the rules, Matsumoto, I can't let kids in. No one younger than a hundred years."

Matsumoto, still smiling, waved her hand lazily in dismissal of her words, "Who's to say he ain't older? There's Yachiru. You want this one, Shiori. He's really crazy strong."

Toshiro shifted his weight and looked at the oak desk. Hirata was staring at him again. He wished she would stop.

"Can you excuse us for a moment?" Hirata smiled and gestured for the door with a dip of the head.

He looked between her and Matsumoto. What for? He blinked a few times. Oh, man, he bet they were going to argue. Like kids. Or an old married couple.

 _What great, terrifying Shinigami..._

Well, he supposed he had to. At least then they couldn't talk about him as if he wasn't there. He was mighty tired of people doing that. Besides, he really didn't want to be there when they argued about him.

He gave a light, indifferent shrug and walked out of the room without a word. The door shut with a creak behind him.

For the next twenty minutes, give or take, he leaned against the wall next to the door and stared at a black spot on the wall opposite him. Students and teachers looked at him with confusion and interest when they passed him, but none of them stopped to ask what he was doing there or to talk with him. They moved on, mumbling amongst themselves or, in the teachers' case, shaking their heads in what Toshiro thought was amusement.

 _They're laughing at me…. At least they aren't afraid, but that'll come._

Toshiro sighed and sank to the floor. What was he doing here? He should be home in the cabin, drinking tea with Granny on the porch, watching the clouds and just taking it easy, letting the pains of reality be forgotten in the moment. He should be in his room, reading a book. He should be sitting beneath the wisteria tree, doing and thinking about nothing at all. He should be alone. Seireitei was the last place he should be.

If he had a choice, that's where he would be. But he didn't and so here he was.

He wondered how Momo would react.

The door to Hirata's office opened and Matsumoto poked her head out to look at him. She beckoned for him to enter, a smile on her face.

She must have won the argument.

He went inside and stopped in front of Hirata's desk, hands twisting in his lap.

"Hirata has agreed to test your Reiatsu." Matsumoto said, hands at her hips.

 _My what?_

"And we'll take it from there. Capiche?"

He just looked at here blankly. She got the hint.

"Right. Sorry. Forgot you don't know squat."

 _Bitch._

"Reiatsu is, in simple terms, the physical manifestation of your Reiryoku, which is a person's spiritual sensitivity and willpower. All Shinigami have high-level Reiryoku and thus, a lot of Reiatsu. I suppose you can say that Reiatsu is the power or force that your Reiryoku exerts, whereas Reiryoku is the amount of energy a person has. That make sense? If not, don't worry, you'll learn more at the academy."

Toshiro nodded and rolled his eyes. He wasn't an idiot and the concept was far from difficult to grasp. It was sort of like the difference between energy in stasis and energy in motion, if not the same.

Matsumoto beamed at Hirata and clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Alrighty, then! Hirata, if you will."

He looked at Hirata. She didn't look happy in the slightest. Matsumoto had no doubt pressured her into this, whatever it was. Toshiro tried to smile knowingly and show her he sympathised, but as always, he didn't manage it. Instead, he made an awkward grimace that earned him a befuddled look from the Headmistress.

Hirata shook her head lightly and opened a shelf in her desk. She hesitated for a moment, grey eyes flicking between Toshiro and Matsumoto. Then she pulled out a black, spherical orb and set it on her desk.

Toshiro blinked in confusion. A glass orb? What did that have to do with testing his Reiatsu? He looked at Matsumoto who gestured for him to take it. She was still smiling, but a tightness had settled in her jaw and she seemed nervous. Anticipatory.

 _Is she afraid?_

He slowly reached out and grabbed the orb with both hands, hesitating only a moment before wrapping his thin fingers around it. It was unexpectedly warm to the touch and thrummed oddly with some sort of energy. A tremble passed through his body; a spark of power surged through him from his fingers to his toes and to the tips of his hair. It came from the orb and mingled with...something inside of him. He thought he could hear the distant rumbling of a beast.

"What now?" he glanced between the two women.

"Focus your Reiatsu into the orb. It will measure the power and strength of it and your Reiryoku as well." Hirata said with a strained smile.

Toshiro raised an eyebrow. "But why am I doing this?"

"Because Hirata doesn't believe me when I say you have lots and lots of Reiatsu!" Matsumoto said and she sounded a little bit annoyed.

"Matsumoto…" Hirata pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed in exasperation.

"Does everyone do this?"

Hirata shook her head. "No. Just those whom we doubt have enough Reiryoku and Reiatsu to make it as a Shinigami. Some souls have enough to be hungry or to have certain abilities, but not enough to enter the Academy."

"Oh."

Toshiro wondered if Momo had needed to take the test. She had mentioned an entrance exam.

"So, how exactly do I focus my Reiatsu?"

"Do you remember last night's dream?"

Toshiro's head snapped up and he regarded Matsumoto sceptically. "Yeah?"

"The feelings it gave you?"

He nodded and swallowed a heavy lump that began to form. Oh, please no, she better not be asking him to do what he thought she was.

"Focus on them, bring them to the forefront of your mind and imagine yourself pushing them into the orb."

Toshiro shook his head vehemently. "No!" Was she mad? That dream and that...thing, dragon, whatever it was, had almost killed Granny! There was no way he was going to-

"Don't worry." Matsumoto suddenly knelt down in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched and just about stopped himself from shrinking. She smiled reassuringly. "It's not dangerous. You just have to do it for a couple of seconds until the orb starts to glow. If anything happens Hirata and me are here to intervene. You have nothing to fear. Ok?"

He desperately searched her face for any sign of deception or dishonesty. Of fear. Anything to grasp onto; anything to give him an excuse to run. All he found was sincere compassion and understanding. Her eyes shone with kindness and a genuine desire to help him. To see him happy and safe. But it couldn't be genuine. Couldn't. She was a stranger. He meant nothing to her.

 _Nothing._

Matsumoto squeezed his shoulder lightly. "When you are ready, Toshiro."

He stiffened, muscles tightened like a taut rope, and looked away from her intense eyes. The light played over the smooth surface of the orb. If he looked closely, he could see images inside it. A vast blue sky filled with soaring birds.

Matsumoto rose to her feet and walked to the side of the room. Toshiro glanced at Hirata who regarded the both of them questioningly. She said nothing, however, simply nodded her head at him.

 _This is a horrible idea…._

Hesitantly and with quite a lot of apprehension, he tried to focus on last night. He closed his eyes instinctively and tightened his grip on the orb, more surges and sparks of power surging through him. The orb was trying to help him focus his Reiatsu, or perhaps it was searching for it. Interacting with it.

The distant rumbling slowly grew louder and Toshiro recognized it. It was the dragon. Screaming. Calling. Just like it always did in his dreams. Like last night. It coiled and stretched inside his mind, brushed against him and spoke words he couldn't hear or understand, but knew was there.

One word, however, reached him.

" _ **-boy!"**_

Everything else suddenly ceased to exist. The world around Toshiro melted away and he fell into a sea of darkness. Cold. Vast. Familiar.

And then he saw it.

The dragon soared through the darkness above him on infinitely large wings. It was taller by far than the gates and walls of Seireitei, and it had no end. A glow brighter than the sun surrounded and emanated from it, but there was no heat. Only a cold, creeping chill that pressed against him from the inside and the outside.

Toshiro saw now that he was glowing too, just like the dragon but nowhere near as bright. He could sense a power within and around him, crushing and so immense he couldn't breathe. And that power forged a whole new world.

It gave color to the darkness and turned it searing white. It created a sky of dark, stormy clouds thundering with anger. It gave birth to large mountains topped with ice that reached desperately for the sky with bony, jutting fingers. It painted plains and fields of snow and ice all the way to the horizon and beyond. It brought forth cutting gale winds of snow and hale, relentless and without mercy.

He gasped desperately for air and tried to scream, but like in last night's dream, he couldn't. The wind drowned it out and choked him, pressing into him from all sides, but also from within.

The dragon coiled and stretched like a spring, and its wings caught the wind to lift it up and up till it disappeared above the clouds. It became a monstrous, dancing shadow that darkened the land. Then it roared so loudly that Toshiro's ears started to bleed, and dove down toward him, mouth agape.

Glowing, ruby red eyes glared at him with ferocious intensity before rows of jagged teeth made of solid ice filled his vision. He gasped and air rushed into his lungs only to be flung out in a bloodcurdling scream as the dragon collided with him.

They imploded, collapsing into themselves under the pressure of their own, shared power and the world they had created with it exploded around them, turning into a bright, searing light of deadly cold energy that ate into everything until nothing was left.

Toshiro screamed and screamed within his mind, and the dragon howled in sorrow and agony. Distantly, he thought he could hear himself scream in the waking world too.

It was just all too much. Too painful. Too cold. Too forceful. Too immense. He couldn't-. Realization and panic struck him all at once, and had he had a body, he would have writhed and clawed in desperation.

 _No no no no no no no no!_ _I can't- It's too much. It's-_

Oh God, he couldn't breathe! He couldn't breathe! God, he was going to die! It was killing him! Tearing him apart! Eating him alive! Crushing him! No no no! Please, no! Stop!

 _HELP!_

"Toshiro! Get ahold of yourself!"

His eyes snapped open and light assaulted them.

The orb was glowing so intensely it was impossible to look at. It vibrated with so much power that Toshiro's entire body shook violently. But no. The power came from him. From inside him. The orb was merely responding to it in its attempt to measure its extent.

" _Toshiro!_ " Matsumoto yelled

He snapped for air. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his veins bulged beneath his skin. Gusts of cold, biting wind ripped through the room, pulsating out from him alongside pulses of bright blue Reiatsu, of power.

Toshiro could hardly breathe and barely see. The wind tore into him as well as everything else. It cut into his skin, drew blood and tore his clothes apart. It shredded Hirata's desk and slammed her and Matsumoto into the wall with such force it knocked the wind out of them.

Ice crept up the walls and frost covered the window behind where the desk had once been. The air was too cold to breathe in. It felt as if Toshiro's eyes would pop out of his skull due to the pressure inside and all around him.

"T-Toshiro!" Matsumoto tried to get to him, but she was pushed back by the gale winds. She was bleeding from a deep cut to the side of her head.

 _No...please...stop._

CRACK!

BOOM!

Toshiro screamed and the world suddenly went black.

* * *

 **A/N:** Ok, so a couple of changes were made. This chapter was orignally going to be "O Seireitei, White-Walled City", as evidence by the preview in the last chapter (which has been edited to reflect the change). But this chapter got long, so I had to split it. Next chapter will be the aforementioned one, though it might undergo a name change. Now, for the preview:

"Next time in ' _Seireit, White-Walled City,'_ Toshiro's outburst in the Headmistress' office has caught the attention of powerful people and while he recovers in the hospital, his fate is in their hands."


	7. Chapter 7: Seireitei, White-Walled City

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach or the characters. They are Tite Kubo's no matter how much I wish they were mine. This is, of course, with the exception of my OCs.

Please see A/N at the end of the Chapter for details or information.

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Seireitei, White-Walled City**

 **Fourth Division Barracks, Seireitei, Soul Society**

Kyoraku had never met, seen or heard of a boy such as the one he looked at now. Snow white hair, porcelain skin and filled to the brim with such power it was nigh impossible to contain. So much so it had nearly killed him and everyone else in the room with him.

Even now, Kyoraku could feel that power brimming under the surface and it sent chills down his spine. To think such a young boy like him was so powerful without any training at all. Reiatsu of such a like was rare, and for good reason. Those souls in possession of it had a tendency to die young.

The boy appeared peaceful there he lay on the hospital bed, chest rising and falling steadily in tune with his breathing. It looked like he was only sleeping, as if he would wake any moment, but three days had passed since the incident with the orb and he had yet to even twitch his eyelids.

"Here again, Captain Kyoraku?" Unohana, Captain of the Fourth and undoubtedly the best healer in all of Soul Society, came up beside him, a clipboard tucked under her arm.

She looked impeccable as always, but Kyoraku had known her for many years and was able to see that she was tired. Her mouth was set a bit tighter than usual, her eyes were harder and her stride less assured.

Kyoraku glanced at her and tipped her his straw hat in greeting.

His gaze turned on the boy again. "How is he?"

Unohana returned the gesture and looked at the boy as well. "He's perfectly healthy. All his injuries have healed."

"But?"

"He will not wake."

Kyoraku's brow crinkled. "Why?"

She sighed and scribbled something on the clipboard. "Reiatsu overload. The sudden manifestation and use of his Reiryoku overwhelmed him and now his spiritual power is in disarray. Out of control."

"Doubt it ever was in control to begin with."

"True."

"Do you think it'll be long?"

Unohana shrugged and shook her head lightly. "Hard to say. We'll just have to wait and see."

Kyoraku shot her a brief glance. She seemed uncertain and worried. It was such a rare emotion for her to display that Kyoraku couldn't help share her unspoken fears. The thought of what the boy could become, what could happen to him….

He made no comment - there was no need for words - and simply nodded, tipping his hat over his eyes as he looked at the boy's prone form. "I suppose so."

* * *

 **Headmistress' Office, Spiritual Arts Academy, Seireitei, Soul Society**

Matsumoto rubbed a sore spot on her shoulder as her eyes surveyed the room. It was still deep frozen, ice covering the floors, walls and ceiling. A fiber thin layer of snow lay upon the ice, like white powder or sugar except really, really cold.

Shinigami from Squad 12 was hard at work chipping it away, but they kept slipping on the ice and the snow. The ice was unusually dense and hard, and they were struggling to remove it. After three days they weren't even halfway done. Only recently had they removed a little over ¼ of the ice. It was a horrendously slow process and many of the Shinigami was annoyed and tired, and really, really cold.

A momentary dizzy spell forced Matsumoto to support herself against the wall. The ice bit into her immediately and sucked the heat from her body like a leech. She winced and pulled back her hand immediately. Damn, the ice was really cold!

 _That kid…_

She knew he was powerful; she had felt as much the first time they met. But this - she shook her head and rubbed the now slightly blue hand on her tigh to get the blood flowing again - this was on a completely different level.

His Reiatsu was so immense it had nearly crushed her and Shiori, and him too. It had burst from his body and cracked his skin as if he was an egg. He had collapsed in a heap after he lost complete control over himself, bleeding and breathing heavily. She thought for sure the kid was dead.

That wasn't the most surprising bit though. Oh no, not even close. Not only did Toshiro utterly wreck the room, he shattered the orb too, something no one had ever done or thought possible. Considering who had made it, it shouldn't have been.

"Matsumoto! There you are!"

She jumped in surprise and turned around. Leaning against the frame of the doorway was Isshin Shiba, the leader of Squad 10 and her Captain.

Isshin let out a long whistle as he stepped into the room. "You weren't kidding. What a mess!" He came up next to her and spun 360 degrees, taking in the entirety of the room. "He even blew out the door!"

Matsumoto brushed some ice and snow from his shoulder. "Yeah, it's pretty impressive."

"Impressive?" he stared at her. "No, this is terrifying!" He didn't sound scared in the slightest. "Oh, and by the way, Rangiku, I need your help with some paperwork."

She blinked. "You came all the way here for that?"

"Uh, yes?"

For a moment she just stared at him. As always, he was too lazy to do his paperwork himself and relied on everyone else to do it for him. Not this time, though.

She snorted and shook her head. "Do it yourself, Captain. I'm on sick leave, remember?"

"Oh, I know." Isshin flashed her is trademark big smile, but then he suddenly sobered up and became very serious. "Matsumoto, Yamamoto has called a Captain's Council."

Matsumoto stilled and met his darkened gaze. "The kid?"

He nodded. "In a way. Ms. Shiori is still in the Fourth and probably won't get out in quite a while. We'll need to find a substitute principal in the meantime and then there's the matter of, well…." He gestured around the room, brow pinched in a momentarily display of uncharacteristic worry and contemplation.

They stood in silence for a few seconds as they both took a moment to take in the almost total destruction of the room. Matsumoto once again questioned the fact that she - and most importantly, the kid - was still alive. Lord knows what Isshin was thinking about.

Matsumoto broke the silence with a heavy and over-exaggerated sigh. "I understand. I'll see to it that the work gets done."

Isshin's smile returned as if it had never been gone and he gave her two thumbs up. "Great! I'll leave it in your hands then, Lieutenant!" He spun around and sauntered out of the room, waving at her over his shoulder, seemingly without a care in the world.

Matsumoto stared after him reprehensively, shaking her head slightly. The man was lazy and irresponsible to a fault, and took few things seriously, but he was a Captain for a reason. He was truly one of the strongest in the Gotei 13 and for that he had her respect. He was also one of the kindest men she knew and she had a feeling this whole incident plagued him more than he let on. If only he actually did his job.

Behind her, one of the Shinigami cursed loudly as a chip of ice he cut lose smashed down on his foot. His lips were blue and his hands shook violently.

Matsumoto exhaled slowly and stood still for several seconds before she too left the room. In her wake, she left a plume of white steam in the deep, biting chill.

* * *

 _It was dark and quiet. He couldn't hear or see anything even though his eyes were open. Or at least, he thought they were. It was hard to tell and truth be told, he didn't really care right now. He was warm - so very, very warm - and comfortable and all alone. But, strangely enough it wasn't lonesome. It felt like he was floating through a temperate sea, weightless and without fears, doubts and worries to drag him down to the bottom. Like he was unburdened for the first time in forever. It was such a refreshing change._

* * *

 **Main Hall of the First Division Headquarter**

Yamamoto Genryusai was his usual stoic self, but the air of frailty the ancient leader normally carried himself with had evaporated. In its place was a grim demeanor and an aura of severity. It was clear to all present that today's Captain's Council would be no laughing matter.

The ancient shinigami regarded all twelve of the gathered Captains one by one, his red eyes lacking any apparent emotion. Five minutes had passed since the last of the Captains, namely Isshin of Squad 10, had arrived, yet the Head-Captain hadn't uttered a single word, not even in response to Kyoraku's and Ukitake's greeting.

The Captains stood still as stone and waited passively, some more so than others, until finally, Yamamoto deigned to speak.

"In the recent weeks there has been a resurgence of Hollows throughout Rukongai." Yamamoto's voice was booming and echoed through the room, yet it never rose beyond normal volume. The Head-Captain continued, skipping any and all pleasantries.

"They are moving closer to Seireitei and now appear between District 30 and District 50. That is further than they have been in years. As Shinigami it is our duty to defeat them, yet they move into our territory and more and more of them appear in the Living World."

Once again, his gaze traveled over each Captain in turn, searing into them as if they blamed and berated them for that fact, as if they had failed somehow. And every Captain met that gaze without looking away or flinching.

"Patrols will henceforth be doubled and a portion of our forces will be relegated into pushing back the encroaching beasts. Byakuya and Tosen, this will be your task." For a brief moment, Yamamoto's attention focused on Byakuya, lingering there until the younger man gave a stoic nod in response. Tosen was offered a cursory glance as he too gave a slight affirmative dip of the head.

"Shinoreijutsuin is in need of a new principal after recent events." Yamamoto hardly skipped a beat, gaze now fixed on all of them at once.

The meeting continued and lasted for another twenty minutes as information, orders and schedules were discussed and assigned. Once all was said, Yamamoto declared the meeting adjourned with a loud rap of his wooden staff.

As the Captains shuffled out of the room, Kyoraku, Unohana and Ukitake remained behind. All three received questioning glances from the others, with the exception of Kenpachi and Mayuri who hadn't stuck behind long enough to see them linger. But in time, the three were alone in the large room with the ancient Head-Captain.

* * *

 **Fourth Division Barracks**

Momo set the fruit basket on the nightstand next to his bed, then she dragged the chair from the corner closer and sat down. She carefully brushed a strand of white hair out of his face, hand hovering over him for a moment, before she folded her hands in her lap.

He was sleeping so quietly, so peacefully, that Momo feared he was dead. It worried her so much that she occasionally had to lean over him and check if he was still breathing, even if she knew that, rationally, it was a stupid fear to have. She had been constantly and continuously assured by the Fourth division Shinigami that he was fine and would wake any moment. That he was just tired.

If only that moment was now.

She was still uncertain of what to think about this recent development. Shiro - her Shiro-chan, her little baby brother - here, in Seireitei and in the Fourth no less! No one had told her how he ended up in the bed, not even Captain Unohana whenever Momo asked. It was all so hush hush and she didn't like it one bit.

So hush hush in fact, that even her own Captain, the all-knowing Aizen, didn't know the story. But he had reassured her anyway and given her a couple of days free so she could deal with the whole thing. So kind, as always.

Momo caught herself blushing and hurriedly grabbed an apple and a plate from the basket. She started to peel it with the knife she'd brought with her.

Toshiro didn't have any visible injuries and as far as she could tell, he was unharmed. The only thing she could think of was that he was sick and had fallen ill with something. Dreadfully, she wondered if it was something very serious, but she told herself to remain calm.

Certainly, they would inform her if it was. Certainly.

Had they informed Granny? The question hit her and for a moment, she stopped peeling the apple. She hoped they had. Maybe Granny was the one who brought him to Seireitei or informed someone who could help, like Jidanbo. Him and Shiro had always been close for reasons unfathomable to Momo, but she was glad he had at least one friend.

As she continued to peel the apple, Toshiro's eyelids suddenly twitched and a tiny sound escaped him, something reminiscent of a sigh. Momo almost dropped everything in her hands and only barely caught herself.

She leaned forward and stared intently at him. Was he waking up?

"Shiro-chan?" she whispered, but no response was given. He was completely still again.

Momo felt her face and shoulders drop. Her grip on the knife tightened and she closed her eyes for a second as she sunk back into the chair. For a split second, she had been so happy. This was the first time he'd made a sound or moved in any noticeable capacity.

She opened her eyes and looked at him again. He looked like a kid, so sweet and innocent. Was he dreaming of anything? If he was, she hoped it was a good, peaceful dream. A happy one. He deserved to be happy and she wanted to see him be it for a change.

She wanted to see him smile when he woke up. She wanted to see him pout and hear him tell her he wasn't a kid when she served him breakfast. Apples and watermelons and a glass of juice. She wanted to talk with him and laugh, like they used to do.

"Please wake up soon, Toshiro."

* * *

 _He wasn't alone anymore. Perhaps he never had been and just hadn't noticed until now. All around he could feel this all-encompassing presence, brushing his skin and his hair. It was as if the temperate sea had taken form and was now wrapped protectively around him. A serpentine blanket._

 _There was a low thrum vibrating through him, soft and oddly comforting. He knew with certainty that it came from the presence that surrounded him. He didn't know how he knew, he just did, but that wasn't the strangest thing of all._

 _The thrum was filled with emotions. Emotions that radiated off the presence and bathed him just as much the thrum made his body quiver with those very same emotions. Whoever the presence was, it was sad._

 _Sorrow, guilt and shame and loneliness - so, so much loneliness - surrounded him. He wanted to stretch out his hand, reach with his body and mind, and help the presence. Soothe it. Make it feel loved. Those emotions, the pain. Crushing. Overwhelming. Powerful He wanted to make them go away because he knew them. Recognized them._

 _They were his._

 _But he couldn't. He was too tired, too at peace, to move. And the presence, despite its depressive emotions, coiled around him and changed its sad thrum to one of comfort and hope._

 _Distantly, he thought he heard a voice whisper for him to rest, and he couldn't help but comply and sink further into the sea, any and all worries whisked away by the current._

" _ **I'm here, always. Now, rest, little one."**_

* * *

 **Main Hall of the First Division Headquarter**

"Why did you ask us to remain?" Ukitake asked as the door closed behind the last of the Captains. "Is it because of the boy?"

Yamamoto didn't respond and remained seated in the exact position he'd been in for the entire meeting. Cross-legged on a mat. Instead it was Unohana who replied.

"Yes, Ukitake." She looked at him grimly and Ukitake quickly understood that the situation was a lot more serious than he had initially assumed.

"Is he-?"

"No," Kyoraku came to stand directly beside him, adjusting his straw hat as he did so. "Still breathing."

Ukitake sighed with relief. "Good." He looked at Yamamoto. "Then what's the problem?"

Yamamoto dipped his head at Unohana who cleared her throat. "The boy - Toshiro Hitsugaya - very nearly died. Principal Hirata and Lieutenant Matsumoto almost got crushed by the sheer force of his Reiatsu. His body was unable to contain the full focused force of it. It started leaking out dangerously and would of completely broken his body had his focus not shattered when he panicked."

Kyoraku let out a long whistle. "Well, damn."

Unohana nodded. "Indeed. The force and power he possesses is of a like I haven't seen in centuries. It's already Captain class."

"But he can't control it." Ukitake said with a sigh. Kyoraku and Unohana's silence was answer enough. "I assume he'll join the Academy."

Kyoraku and Unohana exchanged looks and turned to the stoic Yamamoto. The Head-Captain had his eyes closed, but opened them as he spoke. "He cannot be allowed entry as he is now."

"What?" Ukitake stared at the other three in confusion. "But he has to! Letting someone with so much Reiatsu roam free and untrained could attract hordes of Hollows. It would surely kill him, not to mention the damage an outburst can cause to others! He's a child and he's in need of our help!"

Yamamoto banged his staff on the floor and the sound it caused reverberated through the room. Ukitaka stiffened, but quickly relaxed his shoulders and dipped his head. "Apologies, Head-Captain Yamamoto."

"The boy's Reiatsu is too strong and too rampant to be trained as it is. Any attempt at doing so, will kill him and possibly many others." Yamamoto's gaze burned into the three of them, predominantly focused on Ukitake before they shifted to Unohana. "Therefore, Unohana will seal a portion of it away."

"What!?" all three exclaimed at once.

Seal? Ukitake could hardly believe his ears. In all his millenia of life, Yamamoto had never made such a suggestion. Then again, no individual like that boy had appeared before, at least not to Ukitake's knowledge. The only one who came close was perhaps Zaraki.

"He's a potential asset for Seireitei we cannot afford to lose." Yamamoto said and rose to his feet slowly.

"But school term has already started and with the incident, the instructors will be reluctant to accept him." Unohana shook her head. "The entire school and most of Seireitei will have learned of it by now, and though we can chalk much of the damage up to a ' _malfunction with the testing apparatus_ ', some will not be so easily fooled or accepting. Then there's his age. He's not a hundred, he's not even half that yet."

 _What? Really? But then-_

Kyoraku steadied his straw hat. "You sure it's wise to make a Shinigami of a child? It's not exactly fun and games."

"The decision is made." Yamamoto responded. His voice made it clear that there was no room for discussion. "You will sponsor his entry into the Academy, Ukitake, and the three of you will ensure his education completes."

Before any of them could protest, Yamamoto left the room through the back entrance without as much as another word. They were left staring after him in silence for a long time. Yamamoto's mind had been made up a long time ago and nothing they said or did could change it.

"Well, that happened." Kyoraku sighed and scratched at his stubble. "You think the old man has a purpose in mind for the kid?"

"Don't know." Ukitake shot Kyoraku a look. "But I don't like this. He's a kid!"

"A _powerful_ kid." Unohana added. "One who's powers would go to waste without training. If this is the only way to give him that, then so be it."

Ukitake shook his head. "It still doesn't feel right."

Despite Unohana's words and her stoic expression, he could she had her doubts too.

"Eh," Kyoraku shrugged nonchalantly and tipped his hat back in his signature way, "who knows, maybe the kid'll enjoy it. Carrying around that much Reiatsu and that strong of a spirit ain't never easy. It'd be best for him to use it. Plenty of people go mad or die when they can't. Better for him to be a Shinigami and use his powers to help those in need, than rot in Rukongai."

Both Ukitake and Unohana had to concede the point, and together with Kyoraku, they too left the room, the door closing behind them with a loud boom.

* * *

 _Something had changed. It's the first thing he noticed when a semblance of awareness - or what amounted to it wherever he was - returned to him. The presence moved around him and it brushed soothingly against his mind, filling him with comfort and peace._

" _ **Worry not, little one, worry not."**_

 _But he could not comply. Around him, he could feel the sea shift and swirl. It almost felt as if some of it was being dragged away. Or more accurately, like someone were building a dam, slowly laying down the bricks and separating a portion of the sea from the rest._

 _At first, it was barely noticeable, but as more bricks were laid and the speed of which they were, increased, it became impossible to ignore._

 _The presence coiled and stretched, and a low growl reverberated through and around him. Still it tried to calm and soothe him, even as he twisted and squirmed in the rapidly cooling sea, unable to see anything or get a true sense of what was happening._

 _But suddenly, a thousand things happened all at once and his senses was overwhelmed._

 _An earsplitting roar emitted from the presence and it surged over him, wrapping around him just as the sea exploded into motion. He could see nothing, but he could hear and feel, and that was more than enough to know that chaos reigned and that all was wrong._

 _Huge portions of the sea rushed past him, forcibly dragged through an opening in the dam. Without warning, he suddenly found himself in the middle of a violent, unrelenting torrent that tore into him from all sides. Were it not for the presence, it would surely have ripped him limb from limb._

 _But even the protection the presence offered wasn't complete, and he screamed – just as the presence did (oh, what a horrible sound) – as the very core of his being shook and groaned. Familiar pain and sensations, intense but less so than before, stabbed at him from all sides and buried into his flesh. It was just like in his dreams, like when he held the orb, but instead of coming from within and without – pulsating everywhere – it rushed past and through him. Leaving him._

 _The sea, he now realized, wasn't a sea, not truly. It was a part of him, a piece of his very soul and being, and of the presence too. And it was being taken from him, from_ them _, sealed deep behind a dam he couldn't go over._

 _The presence wrapped tighter around him as the torrent grew more and more violent. The pain it brought lessened more and more until it was but a distant throbbing, the sea a faint roar in his ears. In its stead, he felt a different sort of pain, one that wasn't his, but at the same time, was._

" _ **Shhh,"**_ _the presence sounded close, closer than ever before. It was pressed up against his skin, his head and his ears. He could hear pain in it, but also relief._ " _ **It's alright, little one, it's alright. It may hurt, but no lasting harm will come. We are saved."**_

" _I-it's yours."_

Ours….

" _W-why do I feel-"_

" _ **Shhh, little one, there- time- answers-"**_

" _What!? I can't hear you! It's all broken up!"_

 _The presence spoke again, but he could hear nothing but jumbled, drowning words. It tried again and again and again, but for each try, its voice grew fainter until he could make out no words at all. All that was left to remind him of its existence was the lingering pain and the press of its closeness, but in time, even that faded and he was suddenly all alone._

 _He drifted in darkness without sensation or any idea of time, his mind detached, but then, distant and almost imperceptible, another voice called._

"Please wake up soon, Toshiro."

* * *

It was empty.

The first thing Toshiro noticed when he woke up wasn't the warmth or the press of the sheets, the heaviness of his body or the sunlight that peered through the blinds of the window. No, the first thing he noticed was that he was completely and utterly alone.

The room was empty.

He tried to sit up, only to find that he couldn't. His body was too lazy, too tired and heavy; too accustomed to lying still. How long had he been out? And why? Toshiro couldn't remember what had happened nor did he know where he was. He couldn't really see straight either, his eyes clouded with sleep.

 _I dreamed, but of what?_

All his thoughts slipped through his fingers like sand. He felt horribly sluggish and unfocused. Out of tune. It was as if he hadn't quite settled into his body after being away in dreamland or something. Yeah, no, that didn't make sense, but coming up with a good analogy was impossible in his current state.

Toshiro lay completely still while he waited for his mind to clear and for his body to fully wake. He wiggled his toes and fingers in an attempt to speed up the process, occupying himself with repeated attempts to recall his dream or any sort of memory of where he was and why. He came up empty on the former.

 _The Shinigami…. Seireitei…. I remember._

The creak of the door brought him out of his thoughts and he turned his head to see a tall, dark-haired woman enter the room. She smiled when she saw him and walked up to the window.

"How are you feeling?" she opened the blinders. "Good I hope."

"I, uh, am a bit tired." His gaze followed her as she came over to him. "How long have I been out?"

"About a week." She was still smiling he noticed. "Tell me, how much do you remember. Any headaches or memory issues?

"No, I recall."

She nodded. "Any pain or strange sensations?" He shook his head. "Can you sit up?" She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her perpetual smile warm and open.

Toshiro didn't answer. Instead, he pushed himself into a sitting position. It was surprisingly difficult; his body was still asleep. "Who are you?"

Her hand was still on his shoulder. "Ah, yes, where are my manners. I'm Retsu Unohana, Captain of the Fourth Division and a healer. Me and my subordinates have been taking care of you during your stay here."

"Oh…. Thank you."

"No need for thanks. It's our duty."

The door creaked again and two men entered. They were both tall and one of them wore a white haori, just like the woman. The haori clad man had long, white hair and kind green eyes. He looked a bit emaciated to Toshiro, as if he was ill. The other man was different. He wore a pink kimono, and a lady's at that. And a straw hat.

It was such a strange look that Toshiro was taken aback for a bit, so much so that he didn't register that the white-haired man had spoken until after the fact.

The two introduced themselves as Jushiro Ukitake and Shunsui Ukitake, Captains of the Thirteenth and the Eight respectively. Toshiro responded politely and introduced himself, even though they obviously knew who he was.

Ukitake chatted with him for a bit, asking him how he was, until Kyoraku interrupted him with a pat on the shoulder. "On to more serious matters. I take it you would like to know the result of the test?"

Toshiro's heart skipped a beat and he tried not to cringe. That had been a horribly bad idea and a terrible failure. They didn't need to tell him that. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Ukitake said with a comforting smile. "Accidents happen."

 _Accidents? Major understatement._

"Well," Kyoraku continued without skipping a beat, "you'll be happy to know you've been accepted into the Academy."

"W-what? Really? But I-"

"You didn't think we'd turn you away after such a display, eh, kid?" Kyoraku adjusted his hat with a snort of amusement. Ukitake frowned in what Toshiro assumed was displeasure. "You're in. That is, if you still want to be."

Toshiro fell quiet and looked down at his lap; he didn't know what to say. The sole reason he had come to Seireitei was to join the Academy, to master his powers - his Reiatsu - so that Granny wouldn't die at his hands. Kyoraku spoke as if he had a choice, but that was a lie. They probably wouldn't let him go and he didn't have anywhere to go. He couldn't go home, even if he wanted to.

"I want to." He looked up at Kyoraku and Ukitake with as much determination as he could muster. "I'm in."

Maybe, he told himself, just maybe, the Academy would be different from Rukongai. Maybe he could get friends or be accepted at the very least. It was stupid, pointless optimism, but what was he to do other than hope.

 _Yeah, maybe it won't be so bad._

"I'll become a Shinigami."

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, here it is. I'm really not happy with this, but I just wanted to get it out to you guys, so meh, it's good enough I guess. Now, preview time!

"Next time in _'Tensai! Shinoreijutsuin - Spirituals Arts Academy'_ Toshiro joins the Academy and quickly excels, but things are not as he expected and he has to face the possibilty that he made the wrong choice."


	8. Chapter 8: Spirituals Arts Academy

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach or the characters. They are Tite Kubo's no matter how much I wish they were mine. This is, of course, with the exception of my OCs.

Please see A/N at the end of the Chapter for details or information.

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Tensai! Shinoreijutsuin - Spirituals Arts Academy**

The Academy was no different from Rukongai.

Toshiro didn't know what he had expected or why he was so disappointed. Most of the students came from the various districts of Rukongai and carried with them the prejudices and superstitions of the common folk. Those who didn't were the stuck-up children of nobles and had their heads way too far up their superiority complex filled ass to be anything other than arrogant and pretentious.

Still, it stung to know his hopes had been dashed before they even had the time to form.

He walked down the long and winding hallways of the school and ignored everyone as best he could. That was easier said than done, but he had lots of practice.

It had been about a week and a half since he joined Class 1, the special accelerated class under Gengoro Onabara, a month into the first term. In that time, Toshiro had managed to alienate almost his entire class and make enemies of a few. It hadn't been his intention, but it was what it was.

Toshiro was currently headed for the new Headmaster's office, located a few feet down the hall from Headmistress Hirata's former office which was still being repaired. As he passed it, he tried not to flinch.

He stopped outside the small, average looking door of the office, and knocked three times. A gruff voice called for him to enter and he slid the door open. He stepped over the threshold, closed the door and bowed deeply.

"Toshiro Hitsugaya of Class 1, reporting in."

The Headmaster, a burly man with balding hair and an odd-shaped scar across his face, set aside his papers and steepled his hands on the desk. He had no expression at all unless you counted the perpetual scowl his low-set eyebrows gave him as one.

"So, you're the one, huh?" he peered down at Toshiro, gaze lit with unbridled distaste.

"Yes, sir." Toshiro straightened and looked straight at him, stiff and at attention.

"Smaller than I expected."

Toshiro's eyes twitched and he bit into his lower lip. He barely managed to stop himself from retorting, but he wanted to make a good first impression, so he swallowed it. Though it seemed as if he'd already failed at that particular objective.

"You know," the Headmaster continued, eyes locked on Toshiro's, "I have always valued tradition. It's a family virtue. Rules are there to be followed, not questioned and certainly not broken or bent. But you" - his eyes narrowed a fraction - "are different."

The Headmaster rose from his seat slowly, walked around his desk and stopped in front of Toshiro, a hand trailing along the dark wood. "And that, I'm afraid, could be a problem."

Unable to contain himself, Toshiro met the Shinigami's steely eyes head on and said: "I'm _afraid_ I don't know what you mean, Sir."

"I think you do." The Headmaster didn't miss a beat and his dark eyes held Toshiro's with unwavering intensity. "Listen and listen closely. Don't you think for a moment that you're better than anyone just because a Captain vouched your entry. You are a child and a peasant at that. The only reason you are here is because you could potentially do untold damage otherwise. If I were you, I'd mind myself. So heed my words and don't bother your betters. You might survive then."

Toshiro's stomach churned and he felt sick, as if he was about to throw up. This man, this ass of a man, just belittled him without remorse or subtlety. The other teachers who didn't like him at least had the smarts to be discreet about it. But this man? Oh no, he spat it in his face. But why? Toshiro couldn't imagine that the Headmaster was afraid him, not like most of the people in Rukongai.

 _Narrow-minded elitism._

"I understand." Toshiro pressed the words out through gritted teeth. It shouldn't bother him so much; he should be used to it by now.

"Good. Now get out of my sight."

Toshiro bowed and hurried out of the office without sparing him so much as a second glance.

* * *

Toshiro leaned over his desk in class and pretended to read a page of low-level Kido spells between levels 1 and 10 for the umpteenth time. He had already memorized the incantations and could do cast the spells without saying them aloud, but the teacher insisted they study them. She didn't believe him when he told her he knew them already. Toshiro thought it best not to mention he'd moved on to level 20 and up.

The teacher blabbed on and on about the three types of Kido. Binding, destruction and healing spells, or Bakudo, Hado and Kaido as they were called. Spells to immobilize the enemy or control the battlefield, offensive spells to cause damage and spells to heal and restore the targets Reiatsu. Blah blah blah. It was nothing new, so he just ignored her.

Discreetly, Toshiro pulled out his notebook from the bag at his feet. He made sure to keep it hidden as he opened it and flipped through the pages. The book contained his transcripts and notes from the many books he'd read since his arrival. It was a sort of compendium of the knowledge he'd gained and his own study book. He used it to go over everything he had learned and to compile new information as he obtained it. It was almost full already.

Toshiro flipped to the page that spoke of Zanpakuto. The sword of the Shinigami, a reflection of their power and soul. A piece of them and a sentient creature all its own. A living spirit that could take many forms, shapes, and sizes.

It was obvious to Toshiro, now, what the creature in his dreams was and the books were pretty clear on what he had to do. He had to learn its name and call it forth. Only then would his Zanpakuto take shape, his dreams still and peace return to his life. The only way to do that was through meditation and mastering of ones reiatsu. And that was the problem.

Even though Toshiro knew what to do, he simply couldn't. He had tried to meditate and to find ways to control his reiatsu, but every time he grew restless and agitated, and control escaped his grasp. He simply couldn't find the peace or focus required, too disturbed by swirling thoughts for his mind and ears to open to the words of the dragon. But that didn't stop him from trying nor the dragon from calling.

 _Screaming. Crying. Desperate. Waiting._

That wait, Toshiro silently swore, wouldn't be long.

* * *

As soon as school ended for the day, Toshiro went to his private room in the dorms, dropped off his bag and headed out to the school park with his notebook tucked under his arm. Time for his daily Kido training.

Shortly after enrolling in the Academy, Toshiro had discovered a secluded spot in the school's park. The entire park itself was fenced and at the very back, there was this clearing (the park was filled with trees and paths) that was rarely frequented. He'd made it his secret spot and used it to practice various Kido when he had the time.

Toshiro set his notebook down by a large tree and then he set about casting his usual set of illusory and concealing Bakudo Kido. They were the first Kido he learned as he didn't want others to find him practicing.

He cast Kyokko, a level 26 Kido meant to hide the physical form and Reiatsu of the user, then followed up with Kanbou, a level 10 spell that created a perimeter that warned him of approaching danger. Now, the next Kido spell he hadn't quite mastered yet, so he had to use the incantation.

"Listen and despair, for the great nothingness envelops and none shall hear your cries! Kabe no Chinmoku!"

It was a level 33 spell, a barrier type that trapped all sounds within. Combining it with Kyokko and Kanbou made it so that he couldn't be seen, sensed or heard and he'd know if anyone was nearby. It was perfect.

When he was done, he started to practice other kinds of Kido, going over the once he knew systematically before he moved on to those he had yet to master. The hours passed, but Toshiro barely noticed. He threw himself into practice and pushed himself as much as he dared. By the time he was done, he was exhausted, sweaty and a little bruised, and the sun was setting.

Toshiro wiped the sweat from his brow and exhaled slowly. He felt heavy yet light all at the same time. It was really weird but wonderful. The dragon was always silent when he trained and for a while after, and Toshiro felt a sense of contentment he never felt otherwise.

 _Are you happy, dragon? Am I getting closer? I won't stop until I know your name and you finally leave me alone._

He was utterly exhausted and had to sit down for a bit to catch his breath. It was surprising how physically tiresome it was to cast Kido spells and Toshiro's body was still adjusting to the stress of it. In time, his muscles would grow strong and he would no longer feel as drained, but he would have to work hard and consistently to get to that point.

 _I'll master this power of mine as fast as I can. For Granny. Then she won't…. She'll be safe. Everyone will be._

Toshiro knew patience was a virtue. Granny had been intent on teaching him its value, but right now, he couldn't care less. He didn't care to take it slow and, frankly, he didn't want to spend six years completing the entire school curriculum like everyone else. That was too long. Far, far too long.

He would have to talk with his teacher, Onabara, and see if he could skip ahead a year or two. He was far ahead all of the first graders anyways and it wasn't as if skipping grades was unheard of. It wasn't exactly common either, though.

His mind made and his body rested, he shakily stood up and made his way to the boy's dorm and his room. He would have no dreams tonight.

* * *

"No."

"But-"

"No. And that's final. I will not let you skip two grades nor will I speak to the Headmaster on your behalf." Gengoro Onabara - a tall and broad man with bushy eyebrows and glasses - said as he handed a stack of papers to a senior student who looked at Toshiro as if he was some weird, alien creature.

Toshiro bit down the anger and frustration and tried to sound calm. "Why not?"

"Because, Hitsugaya, that" - he gestured for Toshiro to follow him - "would be pointless."

Onabara guided him down the hall and to his office. Toshiro clenched his fists and ground his teeth, desperately containing a shout of anger and frustration.

 _I have to do this. I can't hold out for six years. I can't._

"I'm sorry, sir" - Toshiro nodded in thanks as he held the door open for him - "but I'm not sure I understand what you mean." It was a struggle to get the words out.

"Please, sit down, Hitsugaya, and let me explain."

He did as he was told and sat down in the chair on the opposite end of the desk. Onabara sat down in his chair across from him and folded his hands on the desk. "Hitsugaya, I'm not denying your request because I don't think you're capable or skilled enough to advance."

"Then-"

"Let me finish!" Onabara shook his head lightly. "You need to learn your manners, Hitsugaya."

"I…. I apologize, sir."

"Good. Now, I don't think you should skip two grades. It would be a waste, as I've said."

Toshiro wet his lips and pulled at the sleeves of his slightly too big school uniform. What was he talking about? Did he expect him to spend six years studying? Agonizing in boredom, pain, and desperation?

"I think you should skip to the sixth and final grade."

 _What!?_

For a few seconds Toshiro could do nothing but stare at his teacher, blinking slowly as his words settled. "W-what do you mean?" he finally managed to press out.

"Just that. You've been at the academy less than half a month and yet, you're far ahead all of the first graders and even most of the second graders. What does that tell you?"

 _That they're stupid._

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me, Hitsugaya. You're smart; you know."

He stilled and stared at Onabara. His dark eyes were intense, but not uncomfortably so like the Headmaster's scornful gaze. Toshiro could sense no hostility or contempt from him. No mockery. It even seemed as if he was genuinely curious and interested in Toshiro's answer.

"It tells me that the curriculum is made to be spread out over a long period of time to give ample time to cove each topic in depth. It tells me that those who made it, expect people to take a long time learning what they need." Onabara's brows raised up a notch and for a moment, Toshiro worried he'd said something wrong or offensive, but he continued speaking anyways.

"It tells me that the curriculum was made with the common folk in mind."

"In other words" - Onabara leaned back in his seat and regarded Toshiro with an indiscernible expression - "it tells you that you're smarter and better than the others."

"That would be arrogant."

"No, it would be a fact."

Silence fell between them as they stared at each other. Toshiro had no idea what to say. He couldn't outright accept it as fact because Granny had taught him to always be humble and to show humility, nevermind what a vocal affirmation would say about him. But he couldn't deny it either. He knew he was different from everyone else; he'd always been.

In the end, all he could do was avert his gaze in silent acknowledgment.

"If you transferred to third grade you wouldn't stay there long. In a month, maybe more, maybe less, you would grow bored again because it would all be too easy for you. Then you would skip a grade or more, only for it to happen again. It would be a waste of time. Of that, I'm certain." Onabara continued unperturbed.

"So, you suggest I just skip straight to sixth grade?"

"No. You're not ready for that. Not yet. But you will be soon if given the opportunity."

 _Ah, I see where he's going._

"But what about the other teachers? Will they just let me do my own thing and study beyond their curriculum?"

A ghost of a smile passed fleetingly over Onabara's face and he nodded. "Don't you worry about that, Hitsugaya. I'll make sure they're aware of our arrangement. You have until the end of the second term this August to finish the school curriculum up till sixth grade. I'll talk with the Headmaster" - he stood up and Toshiro followed suit to the door - "but I can't guarantee he'll be amenable to the idea."

Onabara looked at him gravely. "This won't be easy, even for you. You will be tested, but I have faith that you can do it."

Toshiro was at a loss for words and once again he could do nothing but avert his gaze. The praise was unexpected and he wondered what angle Onabara was playing. Why was he being so nice? So...accepting? What did he get out of this arrangement of theirs?

"Good luck, Toshiro Hitsugaya," Onabara said and closed the door.

* * *

"Is that him? That weird genius kid?

"What's with the hair?"

"Look at him. He thinks he's so much better than everyone else."

"He feels cold."

"He's so small. He's just a kid. He shouldn't be here."

 _I can hear you._

"Stupid peasant."

"Ugh, he creeps me out."

"I've heard he's the one who nearly killed Headmistress Shiori."

"Whoa, he must be really powerful!"

 _I can hear you. I can-_

"He's a genius they say. I've heard the teachers. Apparently, he's following his own schedule. His own curriculum. Like he thinks he's special or something."

"What an arrogant little shit."

 _Stop it._

"Does he think the Headmaster will let him graduate early? Pfft, there's no way he'll let him. The Headmaster's got standards."

"They can't hold him here forever, though, especially if he's as strong as he seems. That'd be a waste of resources."

"Hey, stay away from that kid. He isn't safe. I can feel it. That reiatsu of his…."

 _Genius. Danger. Weird. Cold. Arrogant. Child. Again and again. That's all they ever say._

There was no escape. Wherever he went, the whispers and stares followed, burning into his back and pressing into his ears. He couldn't shut them out. Even in his sleep, he heard them, buzzing incessantly like an insect. The hatred, scorn, and fear sent his way was of an ilk he hadn't seen in years. Not since he was a child.

Ever since he began to follow his own schedule it was as if the entire student body flipped. Students glared at him with anger, fear, uncertainty or hatred. Some avoided looking at him at all. But each and every single student walked in a wide berth when he came down the hall.

 _I'm a plague…._

The dreams had started up again. They weren't as intense as they had been in Rukongai, but he still woke up every day with his room covered in a thin layer of frost and mist and he had to spend an hour or two of his morning cleaning it up.

The dragon was getting restless. Angry. Impatient. It coiled and grumbled, and at night it roared in rage and frustration so loudly that his ears rang for hours after he awoke. Training couldn't still the dragon anymore and Toshiro worked himself to near death trying.

He didn't sleep much, spending most of his time studying instead and practicing Kido and swordplay. The latter he struggled with because he had no one to spar with, but he made do. He had to.

Whenever he did lay down to sleep, he was whisked away to his dreams even before his head hit the pillow, and when he awoke, he was just as tired as before. The days passed by in a disorienting blur of noise and the hours he spent in the library or the dojo or in his secret hideout, blended together into nothing.

Toshiro could only pour everything he had into completing his schedule before the deadline, even at the expense of everything else. Exhaustion, stress, and frustration weighed him down like a ton of bricks, and it took all he had to drag himself along.

 _I can do this. I can. I will. I must._

He was pushing himself too hard, he knew that. It wasn't good for his health, it could kill him, but that didn't matter. He had to do it. Besides, it wasn't as if anyone told him to take it slow or checked up on him. Not even Momo said anything or visited him often if at all. She was too busy.

 _I'll get used to it soon. My mind and body will adjust._

And he was right.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, he steadily grew stronger and more muscular. Training got a little easier and a little less exhausting, and he moved through the school curriculum quicker and quicker. But at the end of the day he still collapsed on his bed and dreamed of the plain and the dragon, and when he awoke, he hurt all over, both within and without.

Toshiro read all the books and more besides when he could spare a moment, which - as time wound on - he could do more and more. He learned and memorized Kido incantations and spells all the way up to sixty. Studied the history of Soul Society and the Gotei 13, learned of the various types of reiatsu and of the nature of Zanpakuto. He gained more control over his reiatsu to the point where his room wouldn't always be covered in frost every morning.

It was ample improvement, but Toshiro wouldn't be satisfied until he had complete and utter control over his reiatsu. He would keep training and studying no matter what.

* * *

 _Dark, stormful clouds hung heavy over the plain of ice and the dragon stared down at him with burning eyes and flaring nostrils. It roared and a gale wind, strong yet weaker than previous times, swirled around Toshiro and mercilessly pelted snow in his face._

 _He protected his eyes as best he could and squinted up at the massive, ice-crowned dragon. "What do you want? Why do you scream so much? Aren't you satisfied?" He yelled over the whining winds._

" _You became quiet when I started training, so why act up now? Isn't this what you want? For me to-"_

" _ **You...die...stop!"**_ _the dragon roared and Toshiro got thrown back several feet by the force of the wind it's voice generated. He hit the ground hard and got buried under a mountain of snow he barely managed to crawl out from._

 _Toshiro hacked and coughed, the breath knocked right out of him, and he made no attempt to stand up. The gale winds picked up speed around him and the dragon craned its neck, eyes locking and burning into him with fierce intensity._

" _W-was that really necessary?" Toshiro coughed and lifted his head to stare indignantly up at it, but its gaze was too intense to hold. He looked away and mumbled: "I just want to sleep without you bothering me. Is that too much to ask?"_

 _The dragon's eyes narrowed and it growled a low guttural sound._

" _What!?" Toshiro snapped, "Don't like me saying that!?" He shakily but determinedly rose to his feet, hands balled into fists. "Every single night, you come to disturb my sleep! You never leave me alone! Not even when I'm awake! I still hear you...calling. Why can't you get that I don't understand you? Why can't you just leave me be and shut up!?"_

 _He was yelling now. Screaming. But he didn't care. He didn't care that the clouds darkened even more and thundered. He didn't care that the dragon rumbled with anger, guilt and hurt. He didn't care that he felt its pain sear through him like a thousand, burning hot needles. He didn't care one bit._

" _This is all your fault! I don't even want to be here! I shouldn't be! I'm supposed to be home with Granny! I'm supposed to be eating watermelons on the porch with Momo! She and I are supposed to play spinning tops in the backyard! I'm not meant to be here, playing pretend, deluding myself into thinking I can be a Shinigami when I don't even want to be one! It's wrong. It's all wrong!"_

 _He was choking up now. But he didn't care._

" _The Shinigami, they took Momo. Made her one of them. They don't care about people, their lives or the promises between them. All they care about is their stupid duty and making themselves stronger. I'm not a Shinigami. I'm not a soldier. Everybody knows it and they all say it."_

 _He didn't care that the clouds had stilled and the thunder stopped. He didn't care that the dragon's anger had vanished with the winds. He didn't care that the dragon was descending to his level. He didn't care that he felt how sad it had been for ages or how worried it was._

 _He didn't notice any of it._

" _I'm just a kid from Rukongai nobody wants or likes. Granny...I-I hurt her. No" - he shook his head, tears stinging his eyes - "I almost killed her. I would have if that lady hadn't shown up. I-I'm a freak of nature. Everybody...everybody- They know. They all know. That's why...that's why-"_

 _The dragon coiled around him as he fell to his knees, shaking violently with barely repressed sobs. It nudged him lightly with its snout and rumbled softly, and Toshiro leaned against it, unable to keep himself upright even on his knees._

" _I-I just want to go home, but I can't. I never asked for this kind of power. All I ever wanted was...was…." He curled in on himself and buried into the dragon's neck. "I don't even know if I'll ever go home again. If I'll ever see her."_

 _He was so exhausted, so spent he couldn't think or see straight. He was so tired of training and studying, of pretending he wasn't bothered by the voices and the stress and the stares. By everything._

 _Toshiro wanted to give up, throw in the towel and run as he had never run before. But he couldn't, not just because he didn't know if the Shinigami would let him leave after what he'd done, but also because if he did run, he couldn't go home even if he wanted to. He was a danger to everyone. He could kill._

 _He had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. He could work himself to death and no one would care._

" _ **I am here, little one."**_

 _Toshiro stiffened in surprise at the clarity and closeness of the voice and stared at the dragon who craned its neck to meet his gaze. Its eyes glistened with an understanding and sadness so strong it was almost as if they physically assaulted him._

" _ **I'm here."**_

 _He couldn't contain himself any longer and lost any semblance of control and composure. He broke down completely and the repressed sobs came out. He wasn't just crying anymore, he was bawling and heaving in a desperate attempt to stop those very same cries and sounds from escaping. His_ _eyes got puffy and bloodshot, his nose runny and his skin red and blotchy. He shook and coughed violently, and dug his bitten nails into the icy skin of the dragon as he cried till his throat was raw._

 _Toshiro couldn't stop and didn't care to try anymore. He didn't care about anything at all nor did he notice that the dragon gently laid its head over him like a blanket, shielding him from all the world's pain save his own. He didn't even notice the light snowfall that fell from the sky like white, crystalline tears._

" _ **I'm here little one, and I always will be. So rest. You have time."**_

* * *

The 20th of July came and went, and the first semester ended. Toshiro breezed past the end of terms exams and got full marks on them all. Even though he was doing his own curriculum, he still had to take the same exams as all the other advanced first graders and it was laughably easy.

Some of the students went home, others stayed in school to study some more. Toshiro was one of the latter. Even though he had already covered the six-year curriculum in its entirety, he didn't feel as if he could go home. As if he could look Granny in the eye after what he'd done. Or almost done. Not as he was now.

So he spent the vacation in his room, meditating with his sword - his Asauchi - the thing that would one day transform into his Zanpakuto, the weapon that would house the dragon. He sat on a mat for hours with it in his lap, trying to reach the plain of ice - his inner world, as it was apparently called - and the dragon, to no avail.

It was incredibly frustrating because he knew the dragon was there. He could hear it rumbling quietly, but it didn't answer when he called. Which infuriated him. The beast had been very quiet ever since their...confrontation in Toshiro's inner world, though it hadn't gone away entirely. He had sensed relief from it after he took its word to heart and eased up with his training and studying, but little else. It seemed almost as if the dragon was blocking him out.

Toshiro couldn't possibly fathom why, and in the end, his vacation ended without him having accomplished anything at all.

The second semester started. While in class, Toshiro spent his time reading over his notes and making sure he knew and remembered everything. When he wasn't doing that, he was staring blankly out of the window at nothing at all. After school, he continued to meditate with his Asauchi and occasionally practiced Kido. He was alone throughout all of it.

Before he knew it, the second semester was over and he passed the end of term exams with flying colors. And then the day when he would be tested on his curriculum came.

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, here you go. Chapter 8! I'm not too happy with it. It was supposed to be longer but plans change. Hope you enjoy this, and please R&R!

Preview time: "Next time in _'The Second Term Trial'_ it's time to be tested! Toshiro has trained for months for this very moment, but will he be able to deliver? Does he even want to? And what sort of test does he have to go through?"


End file.
